Misfortunes of an Elf
by Deana
Summary: Collection of snippets and short stories about our favorite LOTR characters!
1. Changing Fate

**Misfortunes of an Elf  
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, or anyone from LOTR. (sniff)**

Hey everyone! I decided to post a bunch of LOTR snippets! For instance, the chapter you'll be reading right now is my entry for a challenge that was posted to the MC list by my best friend Karri, (author of that awesome LOTR story, 'The Bitterness of Mortality'. Go check it out!) What comes _after_ her scene is what I wrote.

Now, everyone who reads this snippet…make sure that you pay close attention to the end, and be careful if you're eating at the time…you might gasp aloud and choke! ROTFL! ;) Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review please:)

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**Changing Fate**

(Karri's scene)

Legolas remained standing only by sheer force of will, but his body otherwise refused his commands, leaving him to helplessly watch the orcs move in for the kill. They seemed to move in slow motion—one aiming a blow at his head, and another thrusting his own elven blade toward his shoulder.

The blade connected first. Piercing flesh, then muscle, it halted in bone, sending fresh tendrils of fire shooting down his arm and across his chest, but he didn't get long to dwell on it, as a club plowed into the side of his head with enough force to turn him towards Aragorn.

Fresh pain screamed with fury through his skull and Legolas' legs finally gave way beneath him.His gaze locked on Aragorn as he fell.

The ranger's eyes, wide with fear, fixed on the elf's, pleading with him not to die.

Legolas smiled, reassuringly. Aragorn's situation was bad enough; he didn't want the human wasting thought on his friend's final moments. Frustration and helplessness surged through the elf in waves as several orcs advanced on the human. His eyes never left his human friend's.

His eyes growing wider, Aragorn shook his head at the apology emanating from Legolas' eyes. He didn't want the prince to die believing that he'd failed him, especially as Aragorn's own precarious situation mattered so little to the ranger at that moment. He didn't want to see what was about to happen, but he couldn't leave Legolas to suffer it alone, either. Forcing the terror from his expression, he watched as the orc that had clubbed Legolas twice already, raised his arm for another strike. Aragorn managed to hold his calm expression, but couldn't help a flinch at the sickening sound of crunching bone as the blow smashed into the side of Legolas' already battered skull.

His dimming consciousness focused completely on Aragorn, Legolas hardly even noticed the blow. It was only the ranger's slight flinch that alerted him that some fresh hurt had been inflicted. He had no thoughts left to spare for it, for they were consumed by the horror that lay before him; the sight of an arrow piercing Aragorn's chest seared into his memory as his vision slowly turned from red to black…and then complete oblivion.

Aragorn barely noticed the flare of pain as the arrow pierced him. Neither it nor the advancing orcs were enough to distract him as he watched the light in his friend's eyes dim until they stared unseeing. He cried out in anguish and forced himself to his feet as it became apparent that the orcs weren't finished punishing the Prince of Mirkwood.

Struggling forward, Aragorn watched in horror as an orc wrapped his fist around the arrow shaft buried in the elf's back, while another orc yanked Legolas' hands from beneath his body, stretching the prince's arms out straight. Distracted by the movement of the first orc as it screwed the arrow deeper into Legolas' back before mercilessly ripping it free, it took Aragorn a moment to realize the second orc's intentions. Then, he cried out again, but this time with fury.

He shoved heedlessly past the orcs that blocked his path. Caught by surprise, the orcs let him pass, not that the ranger would have noticed if they'd tried to stop him. Oblivious to all beyond Legolas and stopping the orc about to chop off his hands, Aragorn moved with the determination of the possessed. Even so, he knew that he wasn't moving fast enough. The orc's blade was rising…

End of Karri's scene

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Legolas felt someone shaking him, and he bolted upright with a cry of shock.

Aragorn held onto his friend's arms, frowning in concern. "Legolas! Speak to me, mellon-nin!"

"A-Aragorn?" Legolas gasped, breathing heavily as his eyes frantically roamed their surroundings.

The human frowned at the elf's uncharacteristic stutter. "Calm down, mellon-nin. You were having a nightmare; I could not wake you! Tell me what happened!"

Legolas couldn't speak for a minute, as he sat there trembling. It took him a moment to realize that the two of them were still where they'd camped the night before.

Aragorn inwardly sighed as he kept a grip on his friend, impatiently awaiting the elf's return to full awareness. "Legolas?" he whispered, after a minute.

The Prince of Mirkwood looked up at him, sighing shakily. "I dreamed that we were fighting orcs…"

When he didn't continue, Aragorn nodded. "And?"

"We…they…" Legolas trailed off, sighing as he closed his eyes. "It was over for us, mellon-nin. We were doomed to die."

Aragorn frowned over his friend's use of the word 'doomed'. Legolas was always so optimistic and confident…they must truly have been greatly outnumbered.

"They injured us, severely…" Legolas went on, reopening his eyes, his face looking pale. "It seemed so real!" He suddenly grasped his friend's arms, as if wanting to be sure that he truly was there.

Aragorn smiled reassuringly. "I am here, mellon-nin, _this_ is reality, not your dream."

The elf shivered. "They toyed with me…" he winced at the memory. "They shot me…stabbed me…" He paused. "They…crushed my skull…"

Aragorn winced. _What a horrible thing to dream!_

"I lost consciousness from the blows…" said Legolas, staring at nothing. "But yet…it seemed that I could still see everything, as if through someone else's eyes."

Aragorn nodded. That had happened to him occasionally in dreams.

"Before I'd lost consciousness," Legolas continued. "I watched them shoot an arrow into your chest…and yet, you still tried to save me."

Aragorn smiled and patted his friend's arm sympathetically, encouraging him to continue.

"As I watched the orcs from my outside viewpoint, I saw that they weren't finished tormenting my unconscious—or dead—body," Legolas said. "They…"

Aragorn sighed inwardly when the elf trailed off again. The incident must have been truly horrible; he'd never seen his friend in such a state after a mere dream. "What did they do?"

Legolas seemed to grow paler. "They severed my…my hands!"

Aragorn felt a chill go down his spine. Speechless, he simply stared at the elf.

Legolas closed his eyes, but reopened them when the scene tried to replay itself in his mind.

Not knowing what to say, Aragorn did the first thing that he thought of; he pulled his friend closer and hugged him.

Legolas felt comforted by the man's embrace, and began to feel foolish over how he was acting over a dream. "Forgive me, mellon-nin…"

Aragorn shook his head over the elf's shoulder. "Legolas! There is nothing to forgive. That was a truly horrible tale; I am sorry that you suffered through it." He felt Legolas sigh against him and tightened his hold, hoping to abate his friend's shaking. "You are my friend, my brother; I am always here to help you, whether you want it or not."

Legolas smiled at his words. "Hannon le. You know that the same is true of me."

Aragorn felt the elf finally become calm, and he pulled back. "I know." He looked around the woods, listening for sounds. "Why would you have such a horrific dream? You do not sense some evil in this place, do you?"

Legolas frowned, looking at the ground as he thought. "I am not sure _what _it is that I feel…but I do believe that _something_ is not right."

"Then we shall leave," Aragorn said, getting to his feet and holding a hand out to his friend.

Legolas took it and stood, helping the human pack up the campsite.

As they rode off, Legolas turned and looked back…neither of them knowing that they had narrowly missed encountering a large group of orcs…

THE END

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Told ya if you were eating you might've choked! LOL! How'd you like that? lol ;)


	2. Fallen in Battle Part 1

**Fallen in Battle  
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, or the others.**

**I'm proud to say that this story was one of three that won a contest on the Mellon Chronicles website for 'Best Filler' scene! A huge 'hannon le' to everyone who voted for me!**

**Did anybody notice in ROTK, the scene where Legolas, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, and Eomer were planning what to do next, (after the Legolas/oliphaunt scene), Legolas was standing there in a very strange position…it looked as if he'd been injured in some way; his right arm was crossed over his chest with his hand splayed around the left side, with his left hand grasping his right arm. It looked pretty weird, and I can only assume that he was somehow injured in that battle but the scene was taken out of the theater version. Either way, whether I'm right or wrong, Legolas' posture still made it appear this way, so here's my take on what might've happened! Enjoy!**

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Gimli watched, in awe and shock as Legolas felled the huge oliphaunt and slid down its trunk, landing on his feet directly before the dwarf.

Legolas cocked his head at him, as if to say, 'beat that!'

"That still only counts as one!" Gimli exclaimed.

Legolas' eyebrows shot up in astonishment. "One! The oliphaunt _alone_ should count as at least one hundred, and what of all the men riding it?"

"One! You slew them all at once!" exclaimed the dwarf. "One, I say!"

Legolas was so shocked at Gimli's words, that he failed to notice the orc creeping up behind him.

Gimli had turned away so that his friend wouldn't see him laughing. How he loved to pester the elf!

Legolas said nothing, wondering if the dwarf was truly serious, when he suddenly saw a shadow pass over him.

Gimli finally conquered his expression and turned to face the elf again, just in time to see the orc attack his friend. "Legolas!"

The elf had already whirled to face his foe, but was too late. The orc tried to stab Legolas in the heart with a bloodstained knife, but the point of impact was thankfully deflected by the elf's movement. Instead, after entering his skin, it slid off to the side.

Legolas gasped in pain, grabbing the orc's arm in an effort to get the knife.

The foul creature simply took the knife in his other hand, slashing at Legolas' arms in an attempt to dislodge him.

The pain from the orc's first strike was crippling, and Legolas had no means of defense whatsoever. He was therefore surprised when the orc suddenly dropped to the ground, felled by Gimli's axe.

Everything around the elf abruptly spun, and he suddenly found himself on the ground beside his enemy.

"Legolas!" Gimli cried, seeing his friend's tunic quickly becoming saturated with blood. "No…don't do this to me, elf!" he exclaimed, throwing himself to his knees beside him.

Legolas' eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, pain lacing through his chest and right arm like fire.

"Can you hear me, elf?" said Gimli, as he quickly tried to assess his friend's condition. What he thought had been a fatal stab wound to the heart turned out to be a very bad gash; from the area over his heart all the way around to under his arm. It was bleeding very badly, and looked quite deep.

Gimli suddenly realized that Legolas hadn't answered his question. "Laddie…say something!"

Legolas was drifting towards unconsciousness, but he heard the pleading in his friend's voice. "_That_ one…counts…as…one hundred..." he complimented the dwarf, not seeing the fear in Gimli's face as everything turned black.

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Aragorn leaned on his sword, tiredly surveying the battleground. They'd won once again; their foes had been defeated! Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked around for his friends.

Bodies littered the ground, but some were moving, being tended to. Others stumbled from the area, shaken, but glad to be alive.

He saw no sign of Legolas or Gimli.

A shiver of dread slid down his spine, and he opened his mouth to call out, before suddenly hearing his own name in the air.

"Aragorn!"

The human turned around to see his dwarf friend running towards him. "Where's Legolas?" he asked, fear growing in his stomach.

Gimli stopped running, gasping for breath. "Over there," he pointed. "He's been hurt—"

Aragorn ran off, not even letting Gimli finish.

Not surprised, Gimli turned around and ran after him.

Aragorn saw the oliphaunt that Legolas had slain, and not very far from it lay his friend, bloody and still.

Dropping to his knees, Aragorn sought a pulse on the elf's neck. "Legolas?" he said, his voice cracking with fear.

The elf made no movement, eyes tightly shut in unconsciousness.

It was an alarming sight, and Aragorn quickly tried to find the source of the blood. Despair consumed him when he saw the wound's proximity to the elf's heart, and tears welled in his eyes at the implications.

Gimli finally caught up with him and threw himself to his knees, watching worriedly.

Examining the wound, Aragorn saw to his utter relief that the knife had not penetrated his friend's heart, but rather had slid along the ribs over it. The wound was deep enough to reveal bone, and he could see slices from the knife in some of the elf's ribs.

"Aragorn…" Gimli suddenly said, sounding alarmed.

Aragorn turned to look at him, to see that the dwarf had picked up Legolas' right arm, which they only now noticed was also covered in blood. "We have to get him to the healing house _now_," the human said, gently sliding his arms under the elf. "He's losing too much blood."

Gimli nodded and stood, backing up to allow Aragorn some room as he lifted Legolas.

They left the battleground at a run, not even noticing the trail of blood that their elf friend left behind as they rushed him to the house of healing.

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The healers were used to people running in without warning, but nothing prepared them for Aragorn barging in like an attacking orc.

"_Healer!_" he shouted, his voice echoing through the halls. "We need a healer _now_!"

A man beckoned to him, leading him to a room where Aragorn quickly laid Legolas down on a bed.

Gimli stood back and watched as Aragorn snapped orders to the healer, who seemed put-out until he realized that Aragorn knew what he was doing.

"He's a healer himself, lad," Gimli said.

The man nodded, busying himself with seeing to the elf's arm, while Aragorn took care of the more serious wound.

They worked on Legolas for a long time, trying to stop the bleeding and stitching the wounds closed. Gimli watched in fascination as Aragorn combined several herbs into a thick paste to spread on the injuries before bandaging them. Finally, they changed the elf out of his bloody clothes.

The healer finally left, knowing that the patient was in good hands, and Gimli approached the bed as Aragorn poured medicine down the elf's throat.

"I've always wondered how that's possible," he said.

Aragorn looked at him. "What?"

Gimli gestured to Legolas, who was in a half-sitting position, his head in the crook of Aragorn's arm. "How someone who's out cold can swallow."

Aragorn looked back down at Legolas as he continued to feed him the liquid. "It is a reflexive action, thankfully."

"Ah," Gimli said, nodding. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, and blurted out, "Will he live?"

Aragorn frowned as he looked at him again. "Yes…forgive me, Gimli, I didn't realize that you—"

Gimli waved his arm. "That's fine, lad. Don't apologize." He sighed in relief at the human's words, smiling happily.

Aragorn shot him a contrite look before placing the cup on the bed and gently laying Legolas back down.

Gimli took the cup as Aragorn arranged the bedcovers over the elf. "When do you think he'll wake?"

Aragorn shook his head. "There's no way to tell. It could be hours, or a day…the blood loss was extensive."

The dwarf nodded his head, pulling a chair closer to the bed. "He beat me, you know."

Aragorn frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Our game…he won, hands down. I don't know anyone who can slay an oliphant, _and_ every man that rode it! And he didn't even get a scratch!" He looked down at the elf's wounds. "Well, I mean, he wasn't injured at the time, at least."

Aragorn smiled at the dwarf and sat on the other side of the bed, the two friends waiting for the wounded elf to wake.

TBC


	3. Fallen in Battle Part 2

When Legolas finally woke, it was to the unfamiliar sound of a worried dwarf.

"Aragorn! He wakes!"

Legolas groggily wondered who the 'he' was that Gimli was referring too, until he tried to shift his position. Pain flared through his chest, sharp enough to make him gasp.

"Don't move, laddie!" he heard, as a hand grasped his left arm.

"What—?" Legolas tried to speak, but croaked instead.

"Just be still," Gimli told him. "Aragorn's coming."

Said human suddenly ran into the room and hurried to the bed. "Legolas?"

The elf finally managed to open his eyes, giving his friend a weak smile.

Aragorn smiled back. "How do you feel?"

Legolas sighed, wincing when it sent pain through his chest. "I am fine," he said.

Aragorn snorted, shaking his head as he moved to a pitcher on the nightstand. "Then _I_ am an elf."

Gimli laughed and Legolas chuckled, but he stopped with a groan, as it pulled at his wound.

"Take it easy, laddie!" Gimli exclaimed, growing more concerned when the elf's face paled even more than it was already.

Legolas was surprised at the level of pain in his chest, and he wondered at the extent of the damage. He closed his eyes, hoping for it to subside.

Aragorn quickly mixed some herbs in the water, sliding an arm under his friend and helping him sit up high enough to drink.

Legolas bit his lip to stop himself from groaning again, quickly drinking the painkiller. He desperately hoped that it would take effect soon.

Aragorn laid Legolas back down, and he and Gimli watched quietly as the elf composed himself. They both noticed his labored breathing.

"Are you all right, lad?" Gimli asked.

Legolas opened his eyes. "Aye." He saw their skeptical looks, and though he hated to complain, he knew that they'd worry without an explanation. "Breathing hurts."

Aragorn sighed; Legolas had quite a dilemma. "Just rest."

Legolas closed his eyes again, settling his head deeper into the pillow. "How long?" he asked, keeping his sentences short.

"Two days," said Aragorn. "You lost much blood, mellon-nin."

Legolas was surprised at how much time had passed. "How bad?"

"The wound to your chest was very deep," said Aragorn. "The blade damaged two of your ribs."

Gimli stayed silent, looking from Legolas, to Aragorn, and back again as they spoke.

"You have many gashes to your right forearm," Aragorn continued. "Deep, but they did not damage the bone. All in all, you were very lucky."

Legolas opened his eyes and looked at Gimli. "Hannon le."

The dwarf blinked, before realizing that Legolas was thanking him for saving his life. "Anytime, lad," he said, with a smile.

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"Legolas! You are not fit to attend this meeting!"

"Attend it I shall; I need to know of our future plans just as much as _you_ do! Why was _I_ not also called?"

Aragorn sighed. It was the day after Legolas had awakened, and Gandalf had called Aragorn, Eomer, and Gimli together. "You were not called because Gandalf knows that you are injured," he said, thinking it a rather dim-witted question.

"I may have important input that needs to be considered!" said Legolas, trying to get out of bed.

Aragorn couldn't argue with that statement. Legolas was very intelligent and a skillful warrior. "But you are unwell, mellon-nin," Aragorn said, gently grabbing his good arm. "You need to rest."

Legolas tried to sit up, inwardly wincing at the pain. It felt as if something was sitting on his chest and repeatedly stabbing it. The painkilling herbs that Aragorn had given him that morning had worn off too early, and Legolas was too proud to ask for more.

Seeing that the elf refused to give up, Aragorn helped him sit, not wanting his friend to cause himself unnecessary pain.

"I wish to attend," Legolas said, blinking to rid himself of sudden dizziness. "And I _shall_, with or without your permission."

There was no anger behind Legolas words, merely firmness.

Aragorn sighed, crossing his arms. "How do you propose to dress yourself?" he asked.

Legolas closed his eyes in frustration. _Good question._ He could barely move his left arm because it pulled at his chest, causing near-agony, and he naturally wasn't able to move his injured right arm. "I will need your help," he said, forcing out the words.

Aragorn blinked, despite himself. Even though they'd been friends for seemingly forever, he knew how much it had cost the stubborn elf to say that.

Legolas insisted on wearing his full outfit, including his elven cloak and warrior braids. Some of the healers had thoughtfully repaired and cleaned his bloody tunic, but when Aragorn tried to convince him to wear a simple shirt and leggings, Legolas shook his head. The elf would have none of that, wanting to show everyone that he was physically fine.

"But you _aren't_," Aragorn argued.

Legolas said nothing, shooting him a frustrated glare.

It took time to get Legolas ready, as Aragorn tried to be as gentle as possible. When they were finished, Legolas looked as if he hadn't been injured…except for his extreme paleness, which Aragorn didn't draw the elf's attention to, not wanting to upset him.

"Do I pass inspection?" Legolas asked, wishing that he could've done his braids by himself, and silently wondering when he would again be able to do so.

Aragorn said nothing, nodding after a minute.

"Why did you hesitate?" the elf asked.

"You are very pale," Aragorn told him. _So much for keeping that fact a secret!_

Legolas sighed. "That cannot be helped."

Aragorn shook his head, stepping forward to help his friend stand.

Legolas allowed him, but then tried to pull away once he was on his feet. It was a bad move, for he almost fell flat on the floor.

Aragorn quickly grabbed his friend. "Legolas!"

The elf sighed, blinking the grayness from his vision.

"You do not have to do this," said Aragorn, inwardly cursing his friend's pride…though he knew that he would be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed.

Legolas looked at him. "You wish me to stay after all the time that you spent making me presentable, _ada_? Now I have no choice but to go!"

Aragorn didn't expect that for a reply, and he laughed at his friend's unexpected show of humor.

When Aragorn and Legolas walked into the throne room, they found the others already assembled. Everyone looked surprised to see the elf.

"Legolas!" Gimli exclaimed, from where he sat on the throne.

Legolas smiled pleasantly as he walked beside Aragorn, who had an unseen hand hovering at the elf's back, ready to catch him if he faltered.

"How do you fare, penneth?" asked Gandalf, sounding very concerned.

"I am well," Legolas lied.

Gandalf looked like he didn't believe him, but before he had a chance to say anything further, Gimli quickly stood from the throne. "Here, lad, sit down."

Legolas shook his head. "I am fine, Master Dwarf. I do not need to sit. Besides, the throne is not my own."

Aragorn shot a dismayed look at his friend, having planned to force Gimli to give the elf his seat if the dwarf didn't offer it first.

"Are you certain?" Gimli asked, clearly wishing that he would take it. "It's not mine either, laddie!"

"Thank you, but I am fine," Legolas insisted.

Everyone watched the elf for a minute as if forming their own opinion. Eventually, Gandalf sighed.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," he said. "The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it," said Aragorn.

"It is only a matter of time..." Gandalf sighed again.

Everyone was quiet for a minute, and Legolas shifted his position, his wounds making him _very_ uncomfortable. Not even noticing his actions, he rested his right hand over the wound on the side of his chest, bracing his injured arm with his left hand. He began to see why Aragorn had wanted him to miss the meeting, for he quickly felt himself growing weak. Glancing towards Gimli, a part of him wished that he'd accepted the seat after all.

Aragorn noticed the elf's discomfort; it was obvious in the way that he stood.

Eomer suddenly spoke, startling Legolas, who was standing near him.

"We can not achieve victory through strength of arms," said the man of Rohan.

"Not for ourselves," said Gandalf. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us!"

Aragorn nodded. "Keep him blind to all else that moves."

Legolas suddenly realized that he had missed much of the conversation. "A diversion," he blurted, not realizing how dull-witted his words were until it was too late.

"Sauron will suspect a trap," said Gandalf, walking to stand beside Aragorn. "He will not take the bait."

There was silence for a minute, before Gimli spoke. "Certainty of death! Small chance of success!" he said. "What are we waiting for!"

Everyone chuckled at the dwarf and headed towards the door.

Legolas made no move to leave the room, so Aragorn likewise stayed behind, walking to his friend.

Legolas said nothing to him, seemingly staring into thin air.

Aragorn was alarmed to realize that the elf was approaching collapse, obviously waiting for their friends to leave before he gave in to his body's demand.

The second that the door closed and left the two of them alone, Aragorn reached out to grab the elf when his legs buckled beneath him.

Legolas couldn't hold back a groan as he leaned against the human.

Aragorn quickly helped him over to the now-empty throne, and sat him down. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling in front of him.

Legolas' eyes were closed, and he sighed heavily. "Aye…"

Aragorn snorted at his answer, and Legolas reopened his eyes again, trying to blink away his lightheadedness.

"You are fine, and yet you managed to miss most of the conversation," said Aragorn, with a laugh. "What was it that you said, earlier? 'I may have important input that needs to be considered!' Indeed you did, mellon-nin; '_A diversion_'!"

Legolas glared at his friend, embarrassed.

Aragorn stopped laughing. "Forgive me," he said, grasping the elf's good arm. "Please, forgive me…I just do not understand why you risk your health unnecessarily."

Legolas smirked. "I have wondered that about _you_ for years."

Aragorn smiled. "We are quite a stubborn pair, you and I," he agreed, helping Legolas up and supporting him. "Come, you need to rest before we begin the next leg of our journey."

As they walked towards the door, Legolas inwardly sighed, wondering if they would ultimately succeed in their quest to save Middle Earth…

THE END

Thanks for reading, everyone! This was a lot of fun to write!


	4. Mirkwood Yuletide

Merry Christmas, everyone! I wrote this goofy Mirkwood Yuletide poem, and figured I'd share it with all of you! Have a great holiday, everyone:)

Oh yeah, I guess I'd better say that I obviously don't own the original 'Twas the Night...' poem, lol!

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'Twas the night before Yuletide, and all through the palace,

Legolas and his friends drank wine from a chalice.

Their weapons were hung by the doorway with care,

In hopes that pranksters won't dare to come near.

The elflings were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of presents danced in their heads.

The queen in her kerchief, and the king in his cap,

Had just settled their brains for a long night's nap.

When out in the stables there arose such a clatter,

Legolas and friends ran to see what was the matter.

Away to the exit they ran very fast,

Tore open the door, and shot out like a blast.

The light from the moon soon lit up the night,

And all the young friends then gasped at the sight.

For, what to their wandering eyes should appear,

But a certain elf-lord, who was mad as a bear!

His light-brown horse was dyed black as a skunk,

And he knew in a moment that the youngsters were drunk.

The others all laughed, and hiccupped from drink,

And Elrond wished they'd disappear in a blink.

"Legolas! Elladan! Elrohir! Aragorn!"

His voice was as angry and loud as a horn.

"Into your rooms, and try not to fall!

Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

They ran as horses that object to be bound,

When they met with an obstacle, they tripped to the ground.

So up to their rooms, all four of them flew,

With a stop to grab food, and the wine chalice too!

And then, in a twinkling, they heard from the stable,

The sound of water, and a certain elf's grumble.

When they all met up in the Prince's room,

Legolas suddenly fell with a _boom_!

He lay on the floor, and hiccupped again,

And all his friends merrily chuckled at him.

A bundle of pastries, Aragorn had,

And he looked like he wanted to eat them a tad.

His eyes; how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

For out in the stable it had been very cold,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow!

Legolas laughed on the floor and hiccupped,

For no one had thought to help the elf up.

He reached for the leg at the end of his bed,

But accidentally grabbed Elladan's instead!

The other elf yelped, and fast pulled away,

And the sudden motion made poor Legolas sway.

He fell flat on his face, and echoed the yelp,

Whacking his head, he was no jolly ol' elf.

They laughed when they saw him, not knowing his pain,

Legolas looked up, his intention quite plain.

A bruise already had formed on his head,

And he got up and fell again, onto his bed.

The others were worried, and gathered around him,

But Legolas reached out, and swung at Elladan!

The older elf ducked, but was also quite drunk,

So he fell to the floor with a very loud _thunk_.

Legolas laughed, his revenge being won,

The others joined in, having much fun.

When Elrond was finished washing his steed,

He went into the palace, craving some mead.

He saw it was quiet, and quickly grew nervous,

For the youngsters were good at causing much mischief.

He went to their rooms, finding none of his sons,

Until reaching the Prince's, and found everyone.

They all were asleep, on the floor and his bed,

And Elrond frowned at the bruise on his head.

But they all heard him whisper, as he walked out of sight,

"Happy Yuletide to all, and to all a goodnight!"


	5. A Dwarf's Folly Part 1

**A Dwarf's Folly**  
A Lord of the Rings snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, or Faramir.

Hey everyone! Thanks so much for your awesome reviews for the last chapter of 'Race Against Time'! You've all made me so happy:) Enjoy part 1 of this snippet, it's funny:)

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"Legolas! Gimli! It is wonderful to see you!"

Legolas halted his horse, smiling at Aragorn as he and the dwarf dismounted. "Likewise, mellon-nin!"

Gimli jumped heavily to the ground, throwing a wary glare at the horse before greeting his human friend. "It has been too long, laddie! Is it time to eat?"

Aragorn smiled, clasping his friend's shoulders as they turned towards Gondor's palace. "Indeed it is! After you freshen yourselves up, meet me in the dining hall."

"We certainly will!" said Gimli. "I am so hungry that I could eat a horse!"

An indignant whinny suddenly came from Legolas' steed, as if he understood the dwarf's words.

Gimli grumbled something under his breath that Aragorn couldn't hear.

Legolas saw the human's puzzlement. "A story that will be shared over dinner, my friend! Won't it, Gimli?"

"I have no doubt that it will!" said the dwarf, sarcastically, as he headed down the corridor.

Aragorn watched the two of them walk away, and he shook his head with amusement as he headed off to the dining hall.

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Gimli reached the dining hall before Legolas, running into the room quickly.

"You must truly be as hungry as you said!" Aragorn exclaimed.

Gimli smiled, stopping at the table and catching his breath. "I wanted to get here before Legolas."

"Why is that?" asked Aragorn.

Gimli shrugged as he walked past Legolas' seat and accidentally knocked a fork off the table.

Aragorn bent down to pick it up, and when he sat up again, Gimli was tucking something into his pocket and passing Aragorn, to sit on the king's left. Before he could ask Gimli what he had, Legolas came into the room.

"Could you have been any slower, elf?" said Gimli, jokingly trying to bait him.

Legolas smiled, ignoring the dwarf as he looked at the food.

"How was your journey?" Aragorn asked.

"Uneventful," said Legolas, choosing a piece of chicken.

They made small talk for a few minutes, before Gimli picked up his goblet of wine. "No ale?" he complained, taking a sip.

"Wine is _much_ better than ale!" said Legolas.

"Especially elvish wine," said Aragorn.

Legolas looked up at him. "This is elvish?"

Aragorn smiled. "Of course! Elvish drink for my elvish friend."

"Ah!" Legolas said, raising his goblet. "I shall consume this wine with joy!"

Gimli snorted, having laced the elf's drink with a sleeping herb.

Aragorn looked between the two, wondering what Gimli was hiding.

Legolas downed the wine in one swallow, attempting to show-off to the dwarf.

"Dim-witted elf," Gimli muttered, just loud enough for Legolas to hear.

Legolas looked at him with an expression of mock-anger. "Dim-witted, am I?" he said. "And how do you plan to prove that, dwarf?"

"I already have!" said Gimli, grinning.

Legolas frowned, puzzled at his words, before suddenly noticing an odd feeling in his head; a slight dizziness that quickly grew.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, concerned to see the elf's face suddenly pale.

The Mirkwood elf blinked his eyes, as if he was having trouble seeing. "You shall regret this, dwarf," he said. "Mark my words."

Without another sound, the elf suddenly slid from his chair and dropped to the floor, disappearing from sight.

Aragorn and Gimli both jumped to their feet, kneeling beside their friend.

"Ai!" said the dwarf. "I didn't know that it would affect him THAT fast!"

"What did you give him!" Aragorn exclaimed, carefully pulling their friend out from under the table.

"Ah…" said Gimli, nervously. "I asked a healer for something to aid sleep…"

Aragorn's heart did a flip. "And she gave you something fit for a dwarf! A _dwarf_, Gimli, not an _elf_!"

Gimli's expression turned to one of horror. "Ai! Do not tell me that I have poisoned him!"

Aragorn said nothing as he anxiously checked Legolas' pulse and breathing, finding them to both be slow. "I would not say that he is 'poisoned'...but he may sleep very well for the next day or two."

"The next _day_ or _two_!" Gimli shouted. "Do you mean that I have knocked the elf flat for two days!"

Aragorn firmly tapped Legolas' face, getting no response. His eyes were also closed, testifying to the strength of the herb. "Aye, it looks that way."

Gimli wasn't sure if he should howl with guilt or laugher. "I only have that long to live, I imagine..."

Aragorn started to smile, but quickly hid it. "I think that you may have _three_ days to live; he shall not be able to rise from his bed after he wakes, due to the dreadful headache that he will undoubtedly have."

Gimli frowned. "Ai...he will inflict upon me a very slow death."

Aragorn sighed, feeling sorry for the dwarf, but also angry at the dangerous thing that he had done to Legolas. "Let us take him to his room."

Gimli stood back as the king slipped his arms under their friend and lifted him, quickly leaving the dining hall.

As Aragorn carried Legolas down the corridor, Faramir came around the corner ahead of them, and gasped at the sight.

"What happened?" he exclaimed, rushing over.

Aragorn looked at Gimli, who sighed, looking contrite. "An…accident," said the King.

"Why are you not taking him to a healer?" Faramir asked, seeing that they were heading in the wrong direction.

Gimli sighed again, saying nothing.

"We'll explain," said Aragorn. "Come."

Faramir frowned, looking puzzled as he followed.

They entered the elf's room and quickly settled him into bed. Gimli was very quiet, looking very remorseful.

"What happened to him?" Faramir asked, as Aragorn pulled a blanket over the elf. The Steward couldn't help but worriedly notice that Legolas hadn't made any sound or movement.

"I am a fool," said Gimli, finally speaking. _We already knew that, dwarf, _he could imagine Legolas jesting. He sighed, looking at the two men. "On our journey here, Legolas was in a very happy mood. He kept making sport of me, somehow getting his horse to not let me off her back."

Aragorn smiled slightly, imagining the dwarf's annoyance with the animal.

"Every time I tried to dismount, she would sidestep, preventing me from getting down," Gimli said. "I can see the humor in it, but at the time, it was very frustrating, especially when it happened repeatedly. Legolas had to tell her to stop, but not until letting her continue for quite some time."

Faramir was smiling, trying to hide it as he imagined the sight.

"Naturally, I swore revenge," said the dwarf, with a shrug. He remembered Legolas jokingly replying, 'Do your worst'. "For the remainder of the journey, I tried to think of something that he would not expect, and came up with the notion of a sleeping herb. I knew that it would embarrass him to oversleep tomorrow."

Aragorn nodded. Everyone knew how the elf prided himself on his habits.

Gimli sighed then, jumping up to sit on the side of the bed next to his friend. "I did not realize that I would give him the wrong herb!"

Faramir looked at Aragorn with alarm.

"A healer gave Gimli a sleeping herb fit for a dwarf," the king told him. "It was much too strong for an elf."

Faramir shook his head, not sure if he should be amused or worried. "You have gotten yourself into quite a spot, Master Dwarf," he said. "I imagine he will not keep that joyful mood when he wakes."

Gimli shook his head, nervously. "Indeed not."

TBC


	6. A Dwarf's Folly Part 2

Hey everyone! Thanks for your reviews for part 1! I did the dumbest thing the other day...I posted part 1 as its own story instead of making it a chapter in 'Misfortunes of an Elf'! After I realized what I did, I removed it and stuck it in here. That's why you got two alerts for the same thing, lol! Enjoy part 2, there's one more after this!

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Legolas stirred, waking slowly. It took him a minute to realize that his eyes were closed, and he groaned when trolls started bashing clubs against his skull.

"Legolas!"

"Hush," said Aragorn. "Quiet, Gimli. Go close the drapes."

Gimli rushed to the window and complied, watching as his friend moved slightly, the elf's eyebrows furrowing with pain.

Legolas slowly raised a hand, placing it over his eyes and forehead, his elbow thudding to the mattress as if he hadn't the strength to hold his arm up.

Both Gimli and Aragorn winced with sympathy, their worry mounting.

Legolas made no further movement, and Aragorn stepped a little closer. "Legolas," he whispered, not wanting their friend to lose consciousness again.

The elf was startled at the unexpected sound and his body jerked, making him give a pained gasp.

"Forgive me, Legolas!" Gimli cried, grabbing the elf's arm. "It was an accident; I did not realize what I had done!"

Legolas squeezed his hand against his temples, groaning at the pain that Gimli was unknowingly increasing. "What?" he whispered, his voice sounding scratchy.

Aragorn shook his head at the dwarf before he had a chance to answer. "He shall explain in a moment, Legolas. First; how do you feel?"

Legolas slowly removed his hand from his head, opening his eyes slightly. He said nothing, giving Aragorn a look as if to say, 'isn't it obvious?' "My head feels as if it has split into several hundred pieces, and I would like to know why."

Aragorn pointedly looked at Gimli.

The dwarf sighed heavily. "You told me to do my worst, so…I did."

Legolas started to turn his head to look at him, but winced, closing his eyes. "What in all of Middle Earth did you _do_ to me?"

Gimli hopped up onto the bed, helping his friend to see him. "I put a sleeping herb in your wine," he confessed, sadly. "The healer gave me one for a dwarf, and I did not realize the adverse effect that it would have on an elf!"

Legolas opened his eyes again, giving the dwarf a blank look. Suddenly his mouth twitched, and he started laughing.

Aragorn and Gimli's eyebrows rose at the elf's unexpected mirth, until Legolas abruptly stopped with a loud groan, wrapping his arms around his head.

The King of Gondor reached over and gently placed his hands on Legolas' shoulders. "Do not move, mellon-nin. I regret that I cannot give you anything for the pain, for I need to first be sure that the sleeping herb has completely left your body, otherwise they will interact badly with each other."

Legolas inwardly groaned at that, having wondered why Aragorn had not given him a painkiller yet.

"You did not tell me that, Aragorn!" Gimli exclaimed, horrified. "You mean that he must lie here and endure this terrible pain!"

Aragorn sighed, nodding.

Gimli dropped his own head into his hands. "Forgive me, Legolas, _please_!"

Legolas let go of his head with his right hand, blindly groping for the dwarf. "It would be easier to endure if you would lower your voice," he said.

Gimli sighed, grabbing the elf's arm and laying it on the bed, patting it gently. "Just rest, my friend," he whispered.

Legolas sighed, saying nothing.

"Where are you going?" Gimli whispered to Aragorn when the king started walking towards the washroom.

"A cold cloth may provide some relief," he replied.

"I'll get it!" Gimli said, rushing past him.

Aragorn watched as the dwarf left the room, and he returned to the bed, carefully sitting beside his suffering friend.

Legolas sighed. "I am going to _kill_ him."

Aragorn smiled, reaching over to move the elf's arm so that he could feel his forehead. It felt slightly warm, something that didn't surprise the king. "I asked the healer which herb she gave to Gimli," he said. "It is one that affects elves very badly, but you should not take too long to recover."

Legolas opened one eye, squinting painfully at the light that filled the room despite the closed curtains. "What time of day is it?" he asked, re-closing it.

"Midday," he answered.

Legolas said nothing for a minute. "And this occurred last night, I assume?"

Aragorn shook his head, knowing that Gimli was really in for it now. "No…this is day number three."

"WHAT!"

Gimli re-entered the room, just in time to hear Legolas' shout. He stopped dead where he stood, afraid to come closer.

Aragorn turned, seeing the dwarf standing there. Rising from his seat on the bed, he walked over to the shorter being and took the cloth, returning and placing it on the elf's forehead.

Despite his shock, Legolas sighed with relief at the refreshing coldness.

"I didn't know, Legolas!" Gimli said, regaining his nerve. "If I had known, I would _never_ have done it!"

Legolas gave no reply, his hand now resting atop the cloth covering his forehead and eyes. "Hush, Gimli, I will deal with you when I am _able_!" he said.

Gimli's shame grew, if possible, and Aragorn had to fight to hide a smirk. He recognized the tone in Legolas' voice; the elf forgave his friend, he knew it to be an accident, but he was playing on the dwarf's guilt to teach him a lesson. It was a lesson that needed to be learned, for the situation could potentially have been deadly.

"Are you hungry?" Aragorn asked.

"No," Legolas said, miserably. "Even if I was, it would not be worth the movement required." One corner of his mouth lifted slightly, as he knew that Aragorn was helping him smother the dwarf with guilt.

"What can I do, laddie?" Gimli asked, desperation filling his voice. "What can I do to ease the pain that I have caused you?"

_Shut your foul mouth, _came to Legolas' mind, as the dwarf's voice was causing him even more pain. He decided that those words would be too cruel, and said instead, "Nothing, Gimli. There is _nothing_ that you can do."

Gimli sighed, saying nothing more.

"Have some water," said Aragorn, picking up a pitcher beside the bed. "It will help to dissipate the herb's effects faster."

Legolas lowered his hand, attempting to sit up. A grimace of pain wrinkled his face, and he quickly changed his mind.

Aragorn could tell that the wince wasn't an exaggerated display for the dwarf, and he gently slid an arm under his friend, lifting him up just high enough to drink.

Legolas shut his eyes tightly, breathing heavily for a minute at the increased throbbing in his head. He drank the water slowly, not opening his eyes.

When the elf was finished, Aragorn gently laid him back down and fixed the cloth's position. "Could you get a bowl of cold water, Gimli?"

The dwarf ran to comply, quickly bringing it back. He took the cloth himself and rewet it, gently placing it back on his friend's head.

"You should eat _something,_" said Aragorn. "We need to flush the herb out of your body."

Legolas made no reply, in too much pain to speak.

"Gimli," said Aragorn. "Go to the kitchens and bring back some broth and lembas bread, please."

The dwarf nodded, quickly leaving the room.

"There," said Aragorn, with a smirk. "He is now your personal servant."

Legolas smiled slightly, trying to force back a groan. "I am going to _kill_ him…" he repeated.

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Aragorn and Gimli watched the sunset from Legolas' room, some of the tension in the air finally gone as Legolas slept, finally able to take a painkiller for his horrible headache.

Gimli had returned from the kitchens with the things that Aragorn had asked him for, and the two of them had broken the lembas bread into tiny pieces and dropped them into the broth, where they'd become saturated enough to be able to swallow without chewing.

"Lembas soup," Legolas quipped, giving them a look that only Aragorn understood.+

By evening, Aragorn thought that sufficient time had passed to allow the elf's body to completely rid itself of the offensive herb, and gave him something that lessened the worst of his pain.

Gimli was just as relieved as Legolas, and the elf soon dropped into a healing sleep.

Aragorn looked at the dwarf, who silently watched the sky out the window. "What you did to Legolas was very dangerous."

Gimli sighed, closing his eyes. "I know. I shall never forgive myself."

Aragorn lowered his head, sighing. "I am sure that _he_ forgives you, do not hate yourself for it."

Gimli echoed the sigh. "Do _you_ forgive me?"

Aragorn blinked, not having realized that the dwarf's guilt extended that far.

Gimli looked at him, almost unable to meet his eyes. "I almost killed someone who's been your friend for what, over eighty years?"

Aragorn sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Gimli, I forgive you. Though it was terrible, I know that it was an accident."

_Would you forgive me if he had died?_ Gimli wondered.

It was a question that he decided not to ask.

TBC

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+Lembas soup...invented by Aragorn for Legolas in my story, 'The Sound of Silence'.


	7. A Dwarf's Folly Part 3

Hey everyone! Here's the last chapter! Thanks for the reviews; I was so eager to post this story, lol:)

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When Legolas opened his eyes the next morning, he was immensely relieved to find that his headache felt much better. He sighed with relief, but the occupants of the room thought that it was an expression of pain.

"Legolas?" came the worried voices of his friends.

The elf opened his eyes, blinking tiredly. "I trust that I only slept for _one_ night this time?"

Aragorn and Gimli nodded, both of them able to see that their friend felt better today. There was more color in his face, and the pain-lines had vanished.

"You have improved," said Aragorn, happily.

"Aye," said Legolas. "The pain has greatly diminished."

Gimli smiled, for the first time in four days. "I am glad, Legolas! Can you find it in your heart to forgive this foolish old dwarf?"

Legolas looked at his friend, seeing the guilt and grief in his face. The shorter creature looked as if he hadn't slept at all through Legolas' ordeal.

Gimli waited impatiently for the elf's words.

Legolas sighed, holding out a hand. "Of course I forgive you, Gimli."

Gimli ran closer to the bed, grabbing the elf's hand and holding it tightly between both of his. "Bless you, laddie!"

Legolas smiled.

Aragorn watched with a grin. "Calm yourself, Gimli," he said, as the dwarf nearly jumped up and down with joy. "Legolas still needs to rest."

"Rest?" said Legolas, frowning. "I rested for three days!"

"Did you?" said Aragorn. "You were unconscious for two of them, and endured agony through the third. I still see pain in your eyes, mellon-nin, and no doubt you are very tired after such suffering."

Gimli trained stern eyes on his friend. "Listen to the King, elf!"

"But we had plans," said Legolas, trying to sit up. "I have already lost three days."

"And you shall lose the fourth," said Aragorn, holding him down. "We'll have plenty of time after you fully recover, my friend."

"He is right," said Gimli. "All we need do is extend our visit another week."

Legolas sighed. "There is no point in resisting," he said. "For I could not take down _both_ of you."

Gimli chuckled. "Two against one, elf!"

Aragorn couldn't help but smile.

Legolas sighed, giving up. "There is no reason for the two of you to remain here with me," he said. "Gimli; you look very tired. Please go catch up on your own rest. If you do not, then _you_ will soon be the one forced to stay in bed!"

Gimli made a face at that, but he knew Legolas' words to be true.

"And you, Aragorn," said Legolas. "You are king of this country! You have many responsibilities. I am sure that Faramir is likely ready to pull out his hair by now."

"Possibly," Aragorn agreed.

"I thank you both for your care of me," Legolas said, smiling. "It is very much appreciated. You are both very good friends."

Gimli lowered his head. "I am more of a _foolish_ friend, for I caused this to happen."

"I will hear no more of that," said Legolas. "You are forgiven and I am well once more. Go sleep."

Gimli nodded, patting Legolas' arm before reluctantly leaving the room.

"You should sleep too," the elf said to Aragorn. "Before you go back to your duties."

"Mayhap I shall," said the human. "But you are not to leave this bed; I am going to check up on you."

Legolas made a face. "I am no elfling!"

"Then do not act as one," said Aragorn, chuckling. "Go back to sleep."

Legolas gave his friend a mock-glare, but obediently turned onto his side and got comfortable.

"Sleep well," said Aragorn.

"You also," Legolas said.

Aragorn walked over to the door and opened it, but then he closed it again, pretending that he'd left. Turning, he watched his friend to see if he'd get out of bed.

"That will not work with me!" said Legolas, not even turning over.

Aragorn laughed. "So elves _do_ have eyes on the backs of their heads!"

"Of course!" said Legolas.

Still laughing, Aragorn left the room.

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When evening came, Legolas left his bed, intent on having supper with his friends. He arrived in the dining hall before either of them, and waited for their arrival.

Aragorn came into the room first, shaking his head at the sight of the elf. "I knew that I would find you here."

Legolas smiled. "I feel fine now. My headache is completely gone."

"Good!" said Aragorn, smiling as he walked to the table. "I am very much relieved, mellon-nin. You gave me quite a scare." He reached out to take a goblet of wine, but then realized that it was closer to Gimli's seat and changed his mind, taking the other.

Aragorn never saw the look of alarm that crossed Legolas' face…a look that vanished when the human chose the other goblet instead.

"Is he in here?" they suddenly heard.

Looking up, they saw Gimli storm into the room, scowling.

"Good evening, Gimli," said Legolas.

"What are you doing in _here_, you pointy-earred elvish princeling?" the dwarf exclaimed.

Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Eating."

Gimli laughed, shaking his head as he neared the table. "I half-expected you to not stay in bed. How is your head?"

"Perfectly fine."

Gimli smiled as he sat. "I am glad." He sighed as he picked up his goblet of wine and took a large swallow. "It is frightening how an herb that safely aids a dwarf's sleep can cause such agony in an elf."

"Aye," said Legolas, hoping that he'd never feel such pain again. "It is."

"I think that the friendly rivalry between the two of you should come to an end," said Aragorn. "Before someone gets killed!"

Legolas and Gimli exchanged smiles; mischievous twinkles in their eyes making Aragorn shake his head in exasperation.

They ate in silence for a while, Gimli still upset with himself over what he'd done to Legolas, and the elf concentrating on eating, as he hadn't had much food in the past few days.

Aragorn watched them both, secretly wondering if Legolas would get some kind of revenge on the dwarf.

Legolas suddenly looked at him, and Aragorn could see a glimmer in the elf's eye as he looked at Gimli, seemingly waiting for something.

"Do we aim to start our hunt tomorrow?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn nodded. "Aye, if you truly are fully recovered."

"I am," said Legolas. "Do we leave at dawn?"

"That was my original plan, but we can make it later," said Aragorn, wanting Legolas to get as much rest as possible.

"I think that we should make it closer to midday," said Legolas. "But not on my account."

"Then why?" asked Gimli.

Legolas said nothing, smiling as he watched the dwarf's eyes blinking sleepily.

Without warning, Gimli's face suddenly fell right into his dish with a loud _splat_.

Aragorn looked at Legolas, his shock turning into an amused smile.

Legolas smiled back, casually returning to his food. "Dim-witted dwarf."

THE END  
(of _this_ snippet, anyway! Stay tuned for more!)


	8. A Taste of His Own Medicine

**A Taste of His Own Medicine  
**A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Elrond, or the twins.

Hey everyone! Here's the snippet that I promised to post before my new story. Enjoy!

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"My sons will enjoy the surprise of seeing you, Legolas."

The Mirkwood Prince nodded, smiling. "And I shall enjoy seeing _them_!"

Elrond returned the smile as they continued to ride. The two elves were destined for Rivendell, after coming from Mirkwood Palace. Elrond had been visiting his old friend King Thranduil, and Legolas had asked to accompany him home. Elrond had welcomed the company of an elf who he considered a son, and had gladly agreed.

They were close to the Rivendell border when Legolas suddenly stopped his horse, eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it?" Elrond asked, scanning the terrain.

"Orcs are nearby," Legolas told him, drawing his bow.

"Many?" Elrond asked, following the younger elf's line of sight.

"I am unsure," said the wood-elf, with a frown. "But they are moving fast!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before the twang of bowstrings filled the air, and they quickly dismounted, narrowly avoiding the arrows.

A group of orcs suddenly plunged out of the woods, and Elrond and Legolas each felled two quickly with the help of their bows.

Legolas pulled out his knives and met another head on, swiftly killing it and moving on to the next.

Elrond slashed at the creatures with his sword, his skill of old unchanged, and he managed to slaughter their foes without so much as a scratch…until a hidden orc loosed a lethal arrow. He couldn't hold back a surprised gasp when it slammed into the back of his left shoulder. Elrond staggered forward a step, but managed to keep his balance and somehow continue fighting.

Legolas saw the ancient elf obtain his injury, and fought with fury, trying to make his way towards Elrond. The orcs had effectively cut the two elves off from each other, but Legolas didn't allow them to further succeed in their ploy.

Elrond could feel blood soaking his tunic, and he was glad that he hadn't ridden in his formal robes, as they would've greatly hindered him in battle. Swinging his sword at another orc, he blocked the creature's blow, sending the orc's sword into another of his foes and killing the beast.

Legolas was finally getting closer to Elrond, but the orcs kept deliberately blocking him. Giving a cry of frustration, he threw his knives at two orcs and quickly pulled two arrows out of his quiver, jabbing them into the throats of two others.

Elrond was relieved to see that the number of orcs was dwindling, and he forced his screaming arm to finish the fight. He heard Legolas' growl and looked to see the younger elf succeeding in holding his own against their foes.

Elrond turned back to the orc that he currently fought, not seeing Legolas suddenly stagger when an orc managed to penetrate the elf's defenses.

The orc who'd shot Elrond aimed an arrow at Legolas and let it fly, but Legolas saw him and pulled the orc that he currently fought into the path of the arrow, grabbing the now-dead orc's sword.

Elrond started making his way towards Legolas, seeing the orc archer aim at the younger elf again. Stabbing one last orc, Elrond took out his bow and shot the archer—killing him, but not before the foul creature's arrow was loosed.

Legolas had seen Elrond's action, and ducked beneath the last remaining orc, stabbing him in the stomach as the arrow sailed over his head.

Elrond lowered his bow, gasping at the agonizing pain that firing the arrow had caused his shoulder. He took a step towards Legolas, but dizziness overcame him and he fell to his knees.

Legolas took a deep breath and let it out noisily, tiredly stumbling over to Elrond and dropping to his knees behind him. "Do you have any other injuries?" he asked the older elf, trying to regain breath lost from the intense fight.

"No," Elrond said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice as he slid his weight off his legs so that he sat on the ground.

Legolas studied the arrow, removing his cloak and ripping strips from it. He then placed his hand on Elrond's back, grasping the arrow with the other.

Elrond braced himself, thinking it ironic that Legolas was caring for _him_, rather than the reverse.

Legolas quickly ripped the arrow free, throwing it down and swiftly holding a piece of his cloak over the wound.

Elrond squeezed his eyes shut tightly, unable to prevent himself from gasping loudly from the intense pain. It nearly drove him to the ground, but he somehow held himself up, knowing that he needed to stay in that position in order for Legolas to finish his ministrations.

Legolas held the cloth over the wound, looking at the arrow tip to see that there was thankfully no poison on it. He sighed with lightheaded relief, grabbing more cloth and tying a long strip around Elrond's shoulder to hold it in place. That done, he closed his eyes…the lightheaded feeling not leaving him…

Elrond took a deep breath, trying to give strength to his voice. He was about to ask Legolas the extent of the damage when something suddenly slammed into his back, knocking him flat on his face. Thinking that an orc had crept up behind them, he struggled, before noticing that the weight pinning him to the ground was much too light to be an orc.

"Legolas?" he said, looking around for the other elf. "Legolas!" Pushing himself up with his good arm, he turned his head to see blond hair falling off his shoulder.

"Legolas!" Elrond exclaimed again, realizing that it was the younger elf's unconscious body that was pinning him down. Rolling over, he sat up and gently laid the Mirkwood Prince on the ground, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he searched Legolas for the injury that had so suddenly rendered him senseless.

Seeing blood heavily staining the wood-elf's tunic, Elrond located a tear in the material, finding a stab wound in Legolas' right side. It was deep, and Elrond quickly grabbed some of the unused pieces of Legolas' cloak and held them to the injury, pressing down hard.

Legolas moved slightly, feeling the pain even in his unconscious state.

"Hush, penneth," Elrond whispered, his paternal instincts quickly coming to the surface. Lifting the cloth, he studied the wound and smelled the material, trying to detect the presence of poison. He found none, and replaced the cloth, relieved.

A stab of intense pain suddenly shot through Elrond's shoulder and he stifled a moan, using the hand on his good arm to try to stop Legolas' bleeding. He could feel his own blood soaking through his bandage and tunic, and he knew that he wasn't going to remain conscious for much longer.

Looking around the area, he saw that their horses were gone. He sighed heavily, knowing that it was imperative that both Legolas and himself got home to Rivendell as soon as possible.

Turning his head so swiftly had instigated another round of dizziness, and Elrond closed his eyes, trying to force it back. _Do not give in! Who will tend to Legolas' injury if I lose consciousness? _he asked himself. Unfortunately, he didn't succeed; for his blood loss was becoming too great.

Legolas' bleeding wasn't slowing quickly enough, and that was Elrond's last conscious thought as his injury finally robbed him of his senses.

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"ELLADAN!"

Startled, the older twin looked out the nearest window of their home, seeing his younger brother desperately holding onto the manes of two horses. Two very familiar horses… "Elrohir! What's happened!"

"Ada and Legolas' horses arrived without them!" Elrohir shouted.

Elladan gasped, rushing for their weapons before running out the nearest door.

"Take us to them!" Elrohir whispered to the horses, mounting his father's.

Elladan swiftly mounted Legolas' horse, and the twin sons of Elrond quickly rode out, praying that they'd quickly find their father and the elf that they loved as a brother, before the evil that had befallen them possibly claimed their lives.

"There they are!" Elladan exclaimed, quite a while later.

Elrohir's heartbeat quickened at the sight of the two elves lying on the ground amidst the bodies of dead orcs. Quickly dismounting, he grabbed his father's healing bag and dropped to his knees.

Elladan quickly checked his father for a pulse, sighing with relief when he found one. "He lives!" he exclaimed. Seeing the bloody bandage on Elrond's shoulder, he carefully took hold of his father and eased him off Legolas, who he'd been laying across, obviously having lost consciousness while attempting to tend the younger elf.

Elrohir winced at the sight of Legolas, who was covered in blood. It was apparent that Elrond had not had sufficient time to bind their friend's wound before collapsing from his own injury.

Elladan gently laid his father on the ground and looked at Legolas, his eyes widening.

Elrohir shared the anxious look as he felt for their friend's pulse. It was weak, but there. "He lives," he said.

Elladan sighed with relief, quickly checking his father's wound.

Elrohir picked up the thoroughly saturated strips of cloth from Legolas' wound and threw them aside, grabbing the half-ripped cloak and tearing off more strips.

Legolas made no sound as Elrohir held them to his wound, the younger twin praying that the bleeding would soon stop.

Elladan reached for his father's healing bag, retrieving a needle and thread. He had no idea how long the two elves had lain here, so he quickly started to stitch his father's wound, not wanting the ride home to worsen the bleeding.

Elrohir held the pieces of cloth to Legolas' injury, pressing down tightly, relieved that Legolas was not awake to feel it. The wounded elf's skin was deathly pale and cold, and the twins both knew that if they had arrived any later, it might have been too late to save him.

Elladan quickly finished stitching the arrow-wound in his father's shoulder, carefully rewrapping it and making a fire. Taking the healing bag again, he was immensely grateful that their father had taught them the art of healing as he fished through the bag of herbs.

Elrohir was impatiently watching the status of Legolas' bleeding as he again tossed aside bloody cloths and grabbed new ones. "We cannot wait for the bleeding to stop," he told his brother. "One of us needs to stitch while the other wipes away the blood."

Elladan nodded, grabbing a pot out of the healing bag and setting it at the edge of the fire, pouring water from his father's waterskin and dropping in the appropriate herbs.

Elrohir shifted his position as his brother knelt on the other side of Legolas, needle and thread in hand.

Elladan started to stitch, the action difficult with so much blood welling up from the wound. He had to wait in between each stitch for Elrohir to wipe it away before he could again see the edges of Legolas' skin. It took quite a while, but finally they finished.

In unison, they heaved great sighs, bandaging the wound with more strips from Legolas' ruined cloak.

Crossing back to the fire, Elladan removed the pot of boiling tea, pouring it into two cups and adding more water to cool it.

Elrohir took one and slid an arm under Legolas, lifting him up high enough to drink, thankful that swallowing was a reflexive action.

Elladan did the same with Elrond, carefully feeding him the medicated tea, frowning at the paleness of his father's skin.

Their tending finished; Elladan and Elrohir wrapped their two patients in blankets from Elrond and Legolas' packs and mounted the horses, eager to get the two injured elves home and safely tucked into warm beds.

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Elrond was surprised to wake feeling pain, and he frowned at the unexpected sensation. He felt like he was floating, and suddenly realized that he was sitting sideways on a horse. "Legolas!" he exclaimed, as his memory returned.

Elladan was startled when his father abruptly woke, and he held onto him tighter. "Be calm, ada! Legolas lives."

Elrond blinked slightly blurred eyes, looking towards Elrohir, who held Legolas before him as they rode. The golden-haired elf was still unconscious, looking paler than Elrond remembered.

"We tended his injury," Elladan continued. "And yours."

Elrond could feel the stitches in his skin, and sighed with relief that the twins had found them. "Hannon le, my sons."

Elladan and Elrohir both smiled.

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When Legolas woke, he awoke slowly, feeling very groggy. He wondered why his right side hurt, and he suddenly noticed voices around him.

"You should be in bed, ada!" he heard.

"He refused," said a seemingly identical voice. "I tried to stop him, but now I know where we get _our_ stubbornness from!"

"There is no reason why I cannot sit in _this_ room rather than my own," said a third voice. "I wanted to see how Legolas fares."

At the sound of his name, Legolas tried to open his eyes, and was relieved when he succeeded. He saw two identical faces smiling down at him, and incoherently thought that his vision was doubled.

"He wakes!" Elladan exclaimed.

Elrond sat in the chair beside the bed; arm in a sling, face still pale. "How do you feel, penneth?"

Legolas blinked his eyes, the sight of Elrond's injury reminding him of their dangerous incident. "Fine."

The twins shook their heads, giving Legolas a skeptical look.

Before anyone could dispute his words, Legolas looked at Elrond. "And you?" he asked, frowning. "I do not remember what happened after..."

"You lost consciousness," Elrond told him. "My sons soon arrived and tended us. I am fine, and you shall be also."

Legolas was relieved. It had frightened him to see Elrond so wounded; it was a sight that he had not seen often, despite their long lives.

"Fine, you say?" said Elladan, studying his father.

Elrond nodded, giving his son a wary look. "Aye. I am quite fine."

Elrohir shook his head, crossing his arms and looking at his twin. "You are right, brother, we inherited _much_ of our ways from him!"

Legolas smiled as he watched.

"It is only my shoulder," Elrond said, with a frown. "I did not lose too much blood, and there is no poison. I am fully capable of being out of bed."

"Ah!" Elladan exclaimed. "I see! Just as Legolas was allowed out of bed the day that he rode into Imladris with an arrow in his arm, eh?"

Elrond frowned. "He'd lost much blood!"

"As have you!" Elrohir said. Looking at Legolas, he smirked. "How long were you forced to remain in bed that time, mellon-nin?"

Legolas made a show of thinking, frowning and pursing his lips. "Three days, I believe."

Elladan smiled, looking at his father and pointing to the door.

Elrond raised his chin, defiantly. "I will _not_! Who is the elder here?"

"I cannot tell!" said Elrohir.

The look that Elrond shot the younger twin made the others laugh.

Legolas was still slightly groggy from the herbs that the twins had undoubtedly fed him, and he didn't think before he joined in. The motion sent pain shooting through his midsection, and he gasped loudly.

Elrohir immediately grabbed his injured friend's arm, to hold him still.

Elrond stood from his chair, but Elladan walked in front of his father, making the older elf's eyebrows shoot up with surprise. He had to practically push his son out of the way to get a look at Legolas' wound, which Elladan had uncovered.

Legolas' eyes were tightly closed as he dealt with the pain.

Elrond frowned at the sight of the stitched stab wound. It was red-rimmed and ugly, but thankfully poison-free. None of the stitches had torn, but it was in a location where movement needed to be restricted in order for the stitches to properly hold. "You shall be confined here for more then three days, penneth," he said.

Legolas opened his eyes slightly, upset at the healer's words.

Elrohir retrieved some pain-killing herbs, and quickly mixed them with water, helping the golden-haired elf drink. "Would you like some, ada?" he asked.

"No," said Elrond, shaking his head. It was a foolish action, for suddenly, the room spun and tilted, and he couldn't prevent the startled gasp that left his lips.

"Ada!" Elrohir exclaimed, with horror.

Elladan turned towards his father just as Elrond's knees buckled. The older twin reached out and caught him under the arms, causing Elrond to give a pained cry at the accidentally rough treatment dealt to his shoulder.

Elladan sought out the nearest chair and practically dragged his father to it, sitting him down gently. "Are you _now_ prepared to listen to reason!" he exclaimed.

Elrond blinked the spots from his eyes, tightly clutching his shoulder, saying nothing.

Legolas suddenly chuckled, not caring that it hurt. "He's acting just like us!"

The twins laughed, looking back at their father.

"Well then," said Elrohir. "We shall act just like _him_!"

"We shall, indeed!" said Elladan, again pointing to the door. "To bed with you, or I shall _carry_ you there!" he said, imitating his father's voice.

Elrond gave his sons a stern glare, but the amusement dancing in the three younger elves' eyes melted his resolve. "Fine," he said. "I am not so prideful that I cannot admit when I am beaten. Your…" he searched for a word. "_Command_, shall be obeyed, ion-nin."

Elladan gave a victorious grin.

Elrond started to move from the chair, and Elladan took his father's good arm, to assist him.

Elrond pulled his arm away with an indignant look, making Elladan chuckle again.

"Mayhap someone should go with him," Legolas suddenly said, teasingly.

"You suggest that I would not keep my word?" said Elrond, unable to prevent a slight smile.

"Come," said Elladan, wrapping an arm around his father. "I shall keep you company, ada!"

Elrond smiled, draping his good arm around his son's shoulders as they left the room.

THE END


	9. Medicine version 2!

Hey everyone! I wrote 'A Taste of His Own Medicine' for Ruse, (one of my best friends and an awesome author! Check out her stories!) who asked me for Elrond angst. I started out intending to hurt him worse than Legolas, (I can't write a story without hurting our poor Prince, lol!) but the orc who later stabbed Legolas had other plans, lol! After I wrote it, and realized what I'd done, I decided to write another version, to make her happy! Here it is; version 2 of 'A Taste of His Own Medicine'! Chapter 1 of 'Acceptable Risk' will be posted this week!

Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Elrond, or the twins.

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"My sons will enjoy the surprise of seeing you, Legolas."

The Mirkwood Prince nodded, smiling. "And I shall enjoy seeing _them_!"

Elrond returned the smile as they continued to ride. The two elves were destined for Rivendell, after coming from Mirkwood Palace. Elrond had been visiting his old friend King Thranduil, and Legolas had asked to accompany him home. Elrond had welcomed the company of an elf who he considered a son, and had gladly agreed.

They were close to the Rivendell border when Legolas suddenly stopped his horse, eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it?" Elrond asked, scanning the terrain.

"Orcs are nearby," Legolas told him, drawing his bow.

"Many?" Elrond asked, following the younger elf's line of sight.

"I am unsure," said the wood-elf, with a frown. "But they are moving fast!"

The words were barely out of his mouth before the twang of bowstrings filled the air, and they quickly dismounted, narrowly avoiding the arrows.

A group of orcs suddenly plunged out of the woods, and Elrond and Legolas each felled two quickly with the help of their bows.

Legolas pulled out his knives and met another head on, swiftly killing it and moving onto the next. He managed to slaughter many of their foes without so much as a scratch…until a hidden orc loosed a lethal arrow. He couldn't hold back a surprised gasp when it slammed into the back of his left shoulder. Legolas staggered forward a step, but managed to keep his balance and somehow continue fighting.

Elrond slashed at the creatures with his sword, his skill of old unchanged. He saw the blond-haired elf obtain his injury, and fought with fury, trying to make his way towards Legolas. The orcs had effectively cut the two elves off from each other, but Elrond wouldn't allow them to further succeed in their ploy.

Legolas could feel blood soaking his tunic, and he fought to ignore the pain as he slashed at another orc, blocking the creature's blow and sending the orc's sword into another of his foes, killing the beast.

Elrond was finally getting closer to Legolas, but the orcs kept deliberately blocking him. He was relieved to see that the number of orcs was dwindling, and wondered how long the younger elf would succeed in holding his own against their foes.

Legolas saw Elrond attempting to reach him, but didn't see the ancient elf suddenly stagger when an orc managed to penetrate his defenses.

The orc who'd shot Legolas aimed an arrow at Elrond and let it fly, but Elrond saw him and pulled the orc that he currently fought into the path of the arrow.

Legolas saw Elrond's move, and watched as the orc archer aimed at the older elf yet again. Stabbing one last orc, he took out his bow and shot the archer—killing him, but not before the foul creature's arrow was loosed.

Elrond had seen Legolas' action, and ducked beneath the last remaining orc, stabbing him in the stomach as the arrow sailed over his head.

Legolas lowered his bow, gasping at the agonizing pain that firing the arrow had caused his shoulder. He took a step towards Elrond, but dizziness suddenly overcame him and he fell to his knees.

Elrond took a deep breath and quickly hurried over to Legolas, dropping to his knees behind him. "Do you have any other injuries?" he asked the younger elf.

"No," Legolas said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice as he slid his weight off his legs to sit on the ground.

Elrond studied the arrow, removing his cloak and ripping strips from it. He then placed a hand on Legolas' back, grasping the arrow with the other and quickly yanked it free, throwing it down and swiftly holding a piece of his cloak over the wound.

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut tightly, unable to prevent himself from gasping loudly from the intense pain. It nearly drove him to the ground, but he somehow held himself up, knowing that he needed to stay in that position in order for Elrond to finish his ministrations.

Elrond held the cloth over the wound, looking at the arrow tip to thankfully find no poison on it. He sighed with lightheaded relief, grabbing more cloths and tying a long strip around Legolas' shoulder to hold it in place. That done, he closed his eyes…the lightheaded feeling not leaving him…

Legolas gave a startled cry when something suddenly slammed into his back, knocking him flat on his face. Thinking that an orc had crept up behind them, he struggled, before noticing that the weight pinning him to the ground was too light to be an orc.

"Elrond?" he said, looking around for the other elf. "Elrond!" Pushing himself up with his good arm, he turned his head to see dark hair falling off his shoulder.

"Elrond!" Legolas exclaimed again, realizing that it was the older elf's unconscious body that was pinning him down. Rolling over, he sat up and gently laid the Rivendell elf on the ground, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he searched Elrond for the injury that had so suddenly rendered him senseless.

Seeing blood heavily staining the other elf's tunic, Legolas located a tear in the material, finding a stab wound in Elrond's right side. It was deep, and Legolas quickly grabbed some of the unused pieces of Elrond's cloak and held them to the injury, pressing down hard.

Elrond moved slightly, feeling the pain even in his unconscious state.

Lifting the cloth, Legolas studied the wound and smelled the material, trying to detect the presence of poison. He found none, and replaced the cloth, relieved.

A stab of intense pain suddenly shot through his shoulder and he stifled a moan, using the hand on his good arm to try to stop Elrond's bleeding. He could feel his own blood soaking through his bandage and tunic, and knew that he wasn't going to remain conscious for much longer.

Looking around the area, he saw that their horses were gone. He sighed heavily, knowing that it was imperative that both Elrond and himself got home to Rivendell as soon as possible.

Turning his head so swiftly had instigated another round of dizziness, and Legolas closed his eyes, trying to force it back. _Do not give in! Who will tend to Elrond if I lose consciousness?_ he told himself. Unfortunately, he didn't succeed; for his blood loss was becoming too great.

Elrond's bleeding wasn't slowing quickly enough, and that was Legolas' last conscious thought as his injury finally robbed him of his senses.

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"ELLADAN!"

Startled, the older twin looked out the nearest window of their home, seeing his younger brother desperately holding onto the manes of two horses. Two very familiar horses… "Elrohir! What's happened!"

"Ada and Legolas' horses arrived without them!" Elrohir shouted.

Elladan gasped, rushing for their weapons before running out the nearest door.

"Take us to them!" Elrohir whispered to the horses, mounting his father's.

Elladan swiftly mounted Legolas' horse, and the twin sons of Elrond quickly rode out, praying that they'd quickly find their father and the elf that they loved as a brother, before the evil that had befallen them possibly claimed their lives.

"There they are!" Elladan exclaimed, quite a while later.

Elrohir's heartbeat quickened at the sight of the two elves lying on the ground amidst the bodies of dead orcs. Quickly dismounting, he grabbed his father's healing bag and dropped to his knees, checking Legolas for a pulse. He sighed with relief when he found one. "He lives!" he exclaimed. Seeing the bloody bandage on Legolas' shoulder, he carefully took hold of him and eased him off their father, who he'd been laying across, obviously having lost consciousness while attempting to tend the older elf.

Elladan's heart began to race at the sight of their father, who was covered in blood. It was apparent that Legolas had not had sufficient time to bind their father's wound before collapsing from his own injury.

Elrohir gently laid their friend on the ground and looked at Elrond, his eyes widening with fear.

Elladan shared the anxious look as he felt for their father's pulse. It was weak, but there. "He lives," he said.

Elrohir sighed with relief, quickly checking Legolas' injury.

Elladan picked up the thoroughly saturated strips of cloth from Elrond's wound and threw them aside, grabbing the half-ripped cloak and tearing off more strips. Elrond made no sound as Elladan held them to his wound, and the older twin prayed that the bleeding would soon stop.

Elrohir reached for his father's healing bag, retrieving a needle and thread. He had no idea how long the two elves had lain here, so he quickly started to stitch their friend's wound, not wanting the ride home to worsen the bleeding.

Elladan held the pieces of cloth to their father's injury, pressing down tightly, relieved that Elrond was not awake to feel it. The wounded elf's skin was deathly pale and cold, and the twins both knew that if they had arrived any later, it might have been too late to save him.

Elrohir quickly finished stitching the arrow-wound in Legolas' shoulder, carefully rewrapping it and making a fire. Taking the healing bag again, he was immensely grateful that their father had taught them the art of healing as he fished through the bag of herbs.

Elladan was impatiently watching the status of Elrond's bleeding as he again tossed aside bloody cloths and grabbed new ones. "We cannot wait for the bleeding to stop," he told his brother. "One of us needs to stitch while the other wipes away the blood."

Elrohir nodded, grabbing a pot out of the healing bag and setting it at the edge of the fire, pouring water from his father's waterskin and dropping in the appropriate herbs.

Elladan shifted his position as his brother knelt on the other side of their father, needle and thread in hand.

Elrohir started to stitch, the action difficult with so much blood welling up from the wound. He had to wait in between each stitch for Elladan to wipe it away before he could again see the edges of Elrond's skin. It took quite a while, but finally they finished.

In unison, they heaved great sighs, bandaging the wound with more strips from Elrond's ruined cloak.

Crossing back to the fire, Elladan removed the pot of boiling tea, pouring it into two cups and adding more water to cool it.

Elrohir took one and slid an arm under Legolas, lifting him up high enough to drink, thankful that swallowing was a reflexive action.

Elladan did the same with Elrond, carefully feeding him the medicated tea, frowning at the paleness of his skin.

Their tending finished; Elladan and Elrohir wrapped their two patients in blankets from Elrond and Legolas' packs and mounted the horses, eager to get the two injured elves home and safely into warm beds.

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Legolas was surprised to wake feeling pain, and he frowned at the unexpected sensation. He felt like he was floating, and suddenly realized that he was sitting sideways on a horse. "Elrond!" he exclaimed, as his memory returned.

Elrohir was startled when the younger elf abruptly woke, and he held onto him tighter. "Be calm, Legolas! Ada lives."

Legolas blinked slightly blurred eyes, looking towards Elladan, who held Elrond before him as they rode. The older elf was still unconscious, looking paler than Legolas remembered.

"We tended his injury," Elrohir continued. "And yours."

Legolas could feel the stitches in his skin. "Hannon le," he said, sighing with relief that the twins had found them

Elladan and Elrohir both smiled.

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When Elrond woke, he awoke slowly, feeling very groggy. He wondered why his right side hurt, and he suddenly noticed voices around him.

"You should be in bed!" he heard.

"He refused," said a seemingly identical voice. "I tried to stop him, but you know how he is!"

"There is no reason why I cannot sit in _this_ room rather than my own," said a third voice. "I wanted to see how he fares."

Elrond tried to open his eyes, and was relieved when he succeeded. He saw two identical faces smiling down at him, and incoherently thought for a second that his vision was doubled.

"He wakes!" Elladan exclaimed.

Legolas sat in the chair beside the bed; arm in a sling, face still pale. "How do you feel?"

Elrond blinked his eyes, the sight of Legolas' injury reminding him of their dangerous incident. "Fine."

The twins shook their heads, giving their father a skeptical look.

Before anyone could dispute his words, Elrond looked at Legolas. "And you?" he asked, frowning. "I do not remember what happened after treating your wound...?"

"You lost consciousness," Legolas told him. "Elladan and Elrohir soon arrived and tended us. I am fine, and you shall be also," he said with a smile. It had frightened him badly to see Elrond so wounded; it was a sight that he had not seen very often, despite their long lives.

"Hannon le," Elrond said to his sons. "You've done well."

The twins smiled back.

"You feel 'fine', you say?" said Elladan, studying his father. "And you, Legolas? Both of you are 'fine'?"

Elrond nodded, giving his son a wary look as Legolas chuckled. "Aye. I am quite fine."

"As am I," said Legolas.

Elrohir shook his head, crossing his arms and looking at his father. "I expected to hear that lie from Legolas, but I thought that _you_ at least would know better!"

Elrond frowned, attempting to sit up. "I know when I am fine and when I am not."

Elladan and Elrohir both grabbed his arms, trying to keep him still.

Legolas suddenly chuckled. "He's acting just like us!"

"With only one difference," said Elrond, trying to hold in a wince. "I am in bed, and _you_ are not."

Elrohir looked at Legolas, and pointed towards the door.

"It is only my shoulder," said Legolas, frowning. "I did not lose too much blood, and there is no poison. I am fully capable of being out of bed."

Elrond fixed the younger elf with as hard a stare as was possible in his current condition. "You are _not_," he said, taking in Legolas' pale features. Seeing that his son's attention wasn't on him for the moment, Elrond again tried to sit up, but gave a gasp when his wound sent more pain through his side than he expected.

Elrohir immediately grabbed his arm, to hold him still.

Legolas stood from his chair, and Elladan quickly walked closer, uncovering the wound.

Elrond's eyes were tightly closed as he dealt with the pain.

Legolas frowned at the sight of the older elf's stitched stab wound. It was red-rimmed and ugly, but thankfully poison-free. None of the stitches had torn, but it was in a location where movement needed to be restricted in order for the stitches to properly hold.

"You won't be sitting up for a while, ada," said Elladan.

Elrond opened his eyes, upset to hear such words.

Elrohir retrieved some pain-killing herbs and quickly mixed them with water. "Here," he said. "This will help."

Elrond sniffed the contents before drinking, prepared to refuse if it contained a sleeping herb. When he saw that it didn't, he let his son assist him in drinking it.

"Would you like some, Legolas?" Elrohir asked.

"No," said Legolas, unwisely shaking his head. Suddenly, the room spun and tilted, and he couldn't prevent the startled gasp that left his lips.

Elrohir reached out and caught him under the arms just as Legolas' knees buckled, causing the blond-haired elf to give a pained cry at the accidentally rough treatment dealt to his shoulder.

Elrond automatically moved to get out of the bed, his healer instincts taking over. His injury sent sharp stabs of pain through his side and he fell back again, unable to hold back a pained cry.

Elrohir sat Legolas back down in his chair, sitting on the bed and gently holding the Mirkwood Prince steady until he fully regained his senses.

Elladan likewise grabbed his father by the shoulders and held him down in the bed, preventing further movement. He looked at his brother, who was shaking his head.

"Stubborn!" Elladan said. "Both of you! Are you _now_ prepared to listen to reason!" he exclaimed.

Legolas said nothing, clutching his shoulder as he tried to force back the grayness clouding his vision.

Elrond was likewise quiet, attempting the same.

Elladan, seeing that their father didn't plan to move again, let go of him and mixed some painkilling herbs in a glass of water and handed it to Elrohir, who held it to Legolas' lips and forced him to drink it.

"Elrohir will be taking you to your room now, Legolas," said Elladan. "Go with him peacefully or he shall _carry_ you there!"

Legolas said nothing, giving the older twin a glare. It wasn't a hard look, as the Mirkwood Prince finally admitted—but only to _himself_—that he'd underestimated his condition.

Elrohir helped their friend out of the chair, and gently lead him from the room.

"And _you_," said Elladan, crossing his arms as he looked at his father. "_You_ are not allowed to move. Go to sleep."

Elrond frowned, slightly put-out at being treated as a misbehaved elfling.

Elladan's face softened, and he sat in the now-empty chair. "I shall keep you company, ada," he said, taking his father's hand.

Elrond smiled, remembering when his children were elflings; the small Elladan had always sought to hold his father's hand. He opened his mouth to reply, but a feeling of overwhelming fatigue suddenly overcame him. _There was a sleeping herb in that drink! _he realized.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep was the smirk on Elladan's face.

The End

Let me know which version you liked better!


	10. Unforseen Consequences

**Unforeseen Consequence**  
A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, Elrond, or the twins.

Hey everyone! Here's my new snippet! It took me a while to decide which one to post--as I have quite a few, lol--and I chose this one because it's...well...different than my usual stories! I'm sure you'll love it! Thanks for reading! Chapter 1 of 'Eye of the Storm' will be posted this week!

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Elrond stood, startled when the door to his bedchamber loudly banged open. When he saw who was standing there, he frowned with surprise. "Legolas! What is wrong?"

The Mirkwood Prince stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, hair mussed and his eyes glassy and huge. "Where is it!" he exclaimed.

Elrond watched in shock as Legolas started darting around the room. "Where is what?"

Legolas didn't answer, muttering almost deliriously as he opened drawers, looked under the bed and inside the closet, sticking his hands in all the pockets of Elrond's tunics and robes.

Elrond stood and hurried over to the elf, alarmed at his odd behavior. Before he reached him, Legolas turned, having not found what he was looking for.

Legolas stared at Elrond, before suddenly lunging at him.

Elrond stumbled back as the younger elf grabbed him, looking in all his pockets. "Legolas! What are you looking for!"

"How many pockets do you _have_!" Legolas whined, nearly pushing the other elf to the floor. "And which one is it _in_!"

"Which pocket is WHAT in!" Elrond nearly screamed.

Legolas suddenly pulled a large bottle out of one of the older elf's many pockets, but his triumphant expression turned into one of defeat, and then surprise. "Glorfindel was looking for this!" Shrugging, he tossed it.

Elrond gasped and reached out to grab the bottle of First Age Gondolin wine, before trying to pull away from Legolas to hide it under his pillow.

Legolas wouldn't let go, tripping Elrond, who fell flat on the floor. He continued to search the healer, as Elrond suddenly chuckled.

"Stop!" Elrond exclaimed, trying to get away. "You are tickling me, you insane elf!"

"Then tell me where it is!" Legolas cried. Suddenly, it appeared as if he'd lost his strength, and he stopped, slumping against the side of the bed.

"Where is WHAT!" Elrond exclaimed, sitting up and scooting as far from Legolas as possible.

"The tea! The tea, tea, tea, tea, _tea_!"

"Tea?" said Elrond, confused. "You can get tea in any of the kitchens!"

"Noooo!" Legolas whined, loudly. "I mean _your_ tea. YOUR tea!"

Elrond just sat on the floor, staring at Legolas. When he realized what the Prince was saying, his eyes bugged out of his head. "Do you mean to tell me that you NEED my tea? You cannot cope in life without it?" he exclaimed.

"Yes!" said Legolas, his words nearly a sob. "I NEED it! Please!"

Elrond stood and quickly crossed to the younger elf, placing a comforting hand on his head.

"I need it!" Legolas whined, remaining slumped against the bed. "Right nooooooow!"

Elrond could hardly believe his pointed ears. _I have fed him that tea so much through his life, that he has become dependent on it! _

Legolas sniffed.

Elrond sat on the bed, his hand still on Legolas' head. _What am I to do? I cannot feed his dependence, but I cannot let him suffer!_

Before he could decide what to do, there was a sudden noise in the hall.

"Legolas!" Aragorn's voice called. "Did you get it?"

Legolas sniffed again. "No!" he shouted.

"What!" Aragorn exclaimed.

Suddenly the door opened again, and all three of Elrond's sons ran in.

"Where is it?" Elladan and Elrohir both exclaimed.

Elrond gasped, leaping to his feet. "No! Not you three also!"

Aragorn nodded, his eyes looking glazed. "Yes, ada! _We need your tea_!"

Legolas whimpered, covering his face.

"See what you have done?" Aragorn continued, pointing to the blond elf. "You drugged us senseless too many times, ada! Look what it has done to us!"

"It is not _my_ fault that you all have been injured so many times!" Elrond exclaimed, staring at his sons with despair, as they all started walking towards him.

"Tea!" Elrohir said.

"Tea!" said Elladan.

"Tea!" said Aragorn.

"Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeea!" wailed Legolas, from the floor.

Elrond suddenly backed against the wall, and everything abruptly turned black.

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Opening his eyes, Elrond gasped loudly. Before he had a chance to think, he was up and running out the door. He came to a room and burst in, startling the person lying in the bed and the other person standing above him. "No!" he shouted.

Aragorn gasped when his father grabbed the cup that he'd been about to give to Legolas. "Ada?" he said.

"Legolas cannot have this!" Elrond exclaimed. "I will not allow it!"

Legolas looked up from where he lay, blinking groggily.

"Ada," said Aragorn, worriedly. "Are you all right?" He saw that his father was in his nightclothes, and hadn't even put on a robe. "Did you have some kind of nightmare?"

Elrond blinked, looking at the cup, and then at Legolas again. Suddenly everything came back to him, and he realized that it had been, in fact, a dream.

Aragorn walked towards his father and took the cup back. "Is there anything wrong with this tea, ada?"

Elrond looked at him, shaking his head before looking at Legolas again. "No, nothing. Let him have it."

Aragorn smiled and went back to Legolas, gently helping him drink it.

Legolas drank the tea, painfully sighing as Aragorn laid him down again. He reached out with his right hand to hold his left arm, which was bandaged from shoulder to fingers, thanks to a run-in with orcs.

"What did you dream, ada?" Aragorn asked, staring at his father.

Elrond quickly shook his head. "Nothing...ah...I do not recall; it has left my memory. No matter; since you are in good hands, Legolas, I will bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight," Legolas mumbled, drifting off to sleep, thanks to the tea's effects.

"Goodnight, ada," said Aragorn.

Elrond smiled a little shakily, before leaving the room again. "No more pickled turnips before bedtime!" he mumbled to himself.

THE END

Was that as hilarious as I think it was? LOL


	11. Forgiveness

**Forgiveness**  
A Lord of the Rings snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, Elrond, or the twins.

Hey everyone! Here's my snippet! Chapter 1 of my new story (still unnamed at the moment, lol!) will be posted next week!

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"_Smelly_ Ranger? I do _not_ smell!"

Legolas and the twins laughed as they and Aragorn walked through the woods.

"Perhaps you do not smell _today_, brother, since you actually took a bath last night!" said Elrohir.

Aragorn laughed back, knowing that they were jesting. They knew that Rangers had a difficult time finding ponds and lakes in order to bathe in the wilderness.

"If he had a hot bath ready for him every night wherever he went, he would never smell again," said Legolas, in joking defense of his friend. He stopped walking and leaned against an old apple tree.

Elladan suddenly chuckled. "I seem to recall a certain human child's aversion to baths!"

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "_Every_ child hates baths!"

"Aye, including Legolas!" said Elrohir.

Aragorn turned shining eyes on the Mirkwood elf.

"That is not so," Legolas said. He smiled slightly. "I simply enjoyed torturing you whenever you _gave_ me one! That is normal for children."

"Normal? Not when they run _naked_ into important meetings!" said Elladan. "Elrohir, do you remember—"

"Yes!" said his twin, laughing. "Aragorn…Legolas was about equal to a three-year-old-human. He ran from his bath one day, making us chase him through the entire house!"

"Elrohir…" said Legolas, threateningly.

"And then," said Elladan, because his brother was laughing too hard to continue speaking. "He ran into ada's meeting—as naked as the day he was born—and we chased him around a table full of people _three times_ before he ran back out the door!"

Legolas stood there, arms crossed, blushing as the sons of Elrond laughed hysterically.

"Come now, Legolas," said Aragorn, in between laughs. "You would be laughing if _I_ had done that!"

Legolas glared at him, but his eyes were twinkling.

Still laughing, Aragorn gave him a playful shove.

Legolas sidestepped to balance himself, but there was a thick root beside his foot that had grown above the ground. He was unable to catch himself, and fell heavily to the grass.

The twins laughed harder, and Aragorn made a contrite face, chuckling as he knelt beside his friend. "Forgive me, Legolas! Are you all right?"

The elf gave no reply.

Aragorn chuckled again, thinking him to be faking, but his smile faded at the sight of the elf's closed eyes. "Legolas?" he reached out to turn his face completely towards him, and gave a shocked cry when his hand encountered blood.

The twins saw and threw themselves to the ground beside him.

"I _hurt_ him!" Aragorn shouted, staring at the blood on his hand.

Elladan pushed past the stunned human and checked their unconscious friend's pulse before pulling him into his lap. "Legolas?" he said, gently tapping his face. "Wake, mellon-nin!"

Legolas remained motionless, eyes closed and body limp.

Elrohir ripped a piece of cloth from his cloak and held it to their friend's temple. "Let's get him home."

Elladan nodded and stood, carrying the younger elf as if he were an infant.

Aragorn, still stunned over what he had done, seemed unable to move. As the twins began walking back, he scrambled to his feet and followed.

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Elrond had just left his library when he heard one of his sons calling his name. His heartbeat quickened as he wondered what trouble they'd gotten themselves into this time. "Here, Elrohir!" he called, hurrying in the direction of his son's voice.

The younger twin ran around a corner ahead of him. "We need you, ada," he exclaimed, rushing towards him. "Legolas hit his head; he is unconscious!"

Giving a concerned gasp, Elrond quickened his steps as they ran towards the Prince's room. "What did he strike it on?"

Elrohir shook his head. "The ground; a rock, I assume, I am not sure. He fell."

Elrond's eyebrows shot up at that. _Legolas fell?_ That was not a common occurrence for an elf…though he'd learned that something did not need to be common in order to befall the Mirkwood Prince.

Bursting into the room, they found Legolas lying motionless on the bed and Aragorn sitting on the mattress, tightly holding his friend's hand. He looked up as his brother and father came in, and Elrond was shocked to see tears in the human's eyes. Thinking that it meant Legolas' injury was very severe, Elrond's heart clenched in his chest as he ran forward.

Elladan came into the room then, having left to fetch the supplies that his father would need.

Elrond laid his fingers on the side of Legolas' neck, sighing with relief to feel the steady beat. He moved his human son's hand away from the wound, taking the bloody cloth and gently wiping blood from Legolas' temple. The cut was not very deep, but it still required stitches to stop the bleeding, as head injuries always bled more than necessary.

The twins brought a bowl of water and some herbs to the nightstand beside the bed, watching as their father cleaned their friend's wound.

Elrond glanced at Aragorn, frowning at the expression on his face. It looked like…guilt?

The human sighed and Elladan wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

The action piqued Elrond's curiosity even more. "Is anyone going to tell me what happened? How did Legolas fall?"

Aragorn sighed again. "I…pushed him."

Elrond looked at him, shocked. "You _pushed_ him?"

Aragorn nodded, staring at his injured friend. "We were telling stories," he said. "We were all laughing, and I gave him a shove…I don't know why he fell."

"There was a tree root," said Elladan. "He could not catch his balance because it stood in his way."

At those words, Aragorn groaned, dropping his face into one hand.

Elrond began the first stitch, and everyone jumped when the injured elf suddenly made a pained sound.

"Legolas!" Aragorn exclaimed, sitting on the other side of the bed to keep out of his father's way. "Are you all right? How do you feel? Please forgive me, my friend!"

Legolas, eyes still closed, pulled his right arm up to touch his head. "What?" he said, sounding dazed.

"Not now, Aragorn," said Elrond, pushing Legolas' hand back down. "Be still, Legolas, you have hit your head and I need to stitch it."

Legolas opened his eyes, looking confused.

Elrohir had a cup of painkilling herbs ready, and he handed it to Aragorn as Elrond helped Legolas sit up to drink it.

Aragorn carefully fed it to his friend, wishing that Legolas hadn't woken until after the stitches were done.

The temporary upright position renewed Legolas' bleeding, and Elrond gently wiped the blood away. They carefully laid the injured Prince down, and the healer again brought his needle to the injury.

"Squeeze my hand, Legolas," said Aragorn, holding his friend's hand in both of his.

Legolas tried not to, but his hand complied involuntarily.

Elrond tried to be fast but gentle at the same time, concentrating on his task rather than the wince on Legolas' face.

Aragorn could practically feel his friend's pain every time Elrond pushed the needle through the fair-elf's skin. Time seemed to drag on, and finally Elrond finished, carefully cutting the thread with a sharp knife.

"He is finished, Legolas," said Aragorn. "Just rest."

Legolas was quiet for a minute as he dealt with the pain, before opening his eyes. "What happened to me?"

Aragorn sighed, not wanting to _hear_ the words, nevermind say them again.

"Look at me, Legolas," Elrond interrupted. "Is your vision blurred? Are you dizzy?"

Legolas blinked his eyes. "A little."

His words felt like a knife in Aragorn's heart. _I gave him a concussion!_

Elrond leaned closer and studied the injured elf's eyes, finding them dilated, but thankfully not too much. "Aragorn is correct; rest, and you will be fine."

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes as Elrond wrapped a bandage around his head. When the healer finished, Legolas lifted his hand and prodded the wound through the cloth.

"Do not touch," Elrond said, smiling slightly as he pushed the elf's hand away again.

"How many?" Legolas asked.

"Eleven," Elrond answered, knowing that he was asking the number of stitches.

Aragorn stared at his friend, not taking his eyes off him for even a second.

Legolas looked at him, blinking blearily, wondering at the human's expression.

"It was my fault, Legolas," Aragorn blurted. "Please forgive me!"

Legolas smiled slightly. "I am sure that you are in error, Estel. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me."

Aragorn shook his head. "This time, it _is_ my fault, mellon-nin. Do you remember, we were telling stories?"

Legolas thought back, his sudden head injury having robbed him of the memory.

"Naked elflings running into ada's meetings?" Elrohir supplied.

A huge grin split Elrond's face, but he quickly tried to hide it. He remembered that day well, indeed. When little Legolas had barreled into the room naked and dripping, Elrond had been understandably shocked. When the elfling had then proceeded to run around the table—with the twins in pursuit—he'd been mortified at the display to the foreign nobles who stared aghast at the sight.

After the three young elves had fled the room, Elrond hastened to apologize, but the entire table erupted in laughter before he had a chance. They waved away the elf's apology and continued the meeting.

Later that night, after the nobles had left, anyone who walked by Elrond's bedchamber would have wondered what in Middle Earth the elf lord was laughing at.

Legolas closed his eyes, remembering now. "Ai, you should have _let_ me forget," he said.

The twins smiled, but Aragorn sighed. "I shoved you, Legolas, and you fell over a tree root. Please forgive me!"

Legolas' eyebrows shot up. _A tree root. Figures. _"Of course I forgive you, Estel, it was an accident."

The human shook his head. "But it wasn't. I pushed you purposely."

"Did you know that I would fall?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn shook his head vehemently.

"Then it was an accident," Legolas said. He closed his eyes, all the talking hurting his head.

Aragorn closed his mouth, frowning at the pain that he could see on his friend's face.

When the injured elf didn't reopen his eyes, they realized that he'd fallen asleep.

"Worry not, Aragorn," Elrond whispered. "He forgives you, and will be fine."

The human nodded, though he was still upset at himself. He stayed in Legolas' room that night, waking him every so often to ensure that he didn't lose consciousness again. The elf woke without mishap each time, and Aragorn eventually fell asleep in the chair beside the bed.

When Legolas woke the next day, it was late morning. He blinked his eyes open, wincing as the sunlight in his room hurt his head. He looked at Aragorn, to see that the human was waking too. Quickly, the elf tried to banish every trace of pain from showing on his face, and he smiled at his friend.

Aragorn smiled back, his spirits lifted at the sight. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Legolas lied. "You?"

"Me?" Aragorn frowned.

"You slept in a chair all night," said Legolas, smiling. "I know how _that_ feels."

Aragorn returned the smile and stood, stretching from head to toe. "Are you hungry? Does your stomach feel all right?"

"Aye," Legolas told him.

The human was grateful to hear that, and he left to bring back breakfast.

Elrond and the twins peeked their heads in a short time later, having come and gone a few times while the friends slept. They were glad to find out that Legolas' vision was back to normal, and though they didn't believe that he was 'fine', they knew that he would be, in a few days.

The next day, Legolas got out of bed the instant that he was alone. He was only slightly dizzy for a minute, and he got dressed before leaving his room.

"Legolas!"

The blond elf stopped and turned around, seeing Elrond approaching from the opposite hall.

"Where are you going?" the healer asked.

Legolas didn't really have an answer for him. "Out?"

Elrond smiled, wrapping his arm around one of Legolas' and continuing to walk.

Legolas followed; surprised that he hadn't been ordered back into his room.

"My sons are fetching lunch," Elrond told him. "We should hurry if we wish to prevent them from bringing it up here."

Legolas smiled back, and they descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen.

"El!" they heard Aragorn exclaim. "We have not time for this, Legolas is waiting!"

Legolas and Elrond looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. The human's abbreviation of his brother's name made it impossible to tell which twin he'd shouted at.

Eyes twinkling, Elrond walked forward and pushed the door open hard, making his three sons jump. "What have we here?" he asked.

The twins and Aragorn stared at him, the human with a hand over his heart. His display of shock did nothing to hide the flour that covered his clothes…or the pot that sat on his head.

Legolas peeked from behind Elrond's back and burst out laughing at the sight.

Aragorn's shock turned into surprise, and he rushed forward, grabbing his friend's arm. "Why are you out of bed?"

Legolas looked at the pot still resting atop his friend, and continued laughing, unconsciously bringing a hand up to his still-aching head.

Aragorn pulled him over to the table, not even noticing when Elrond took the pot off his head. "How do you feel?"

"I am fine, Estel," Legolas said, still smiling. "You worry too much."

The twins cut off anything else that the human wanted to say by placing the food on the table. They ate, and though Aragorn thought that Legolas should still be resting, he was relieved to see him up and about again.

After they ate, Aragorn looked at his friend. "All right, back to your room!"

Legolas gave him a determined look. "I think not."

"We have known _that_ for centuries!" Elladan quipped.

Legolas made a face at him. "I shall _not_ return to my room," he said. "I need to speak to the tree."

"Tree?" Aragorn echoed.

Legolas nodded, carefully. "The one with the root. It has been extremely upset over my injury. Like you, it blames itself."

Aragorn's eyebrows were raised.

"I have heard it also," said Elrond. "It continues to pass apologies along to you through every tree between it and the house, despite my assurances that you are fine."

"It wants to apologize to me directly," Legolas said, sounding sympathetic.

Aragorn couldn't argue with his friend's wish, knowing well the feeling of guilt. "After that, then, you will return to rest."

Legolas made an exasperated sound. "When will you believe that I am fine? The pain is not significant…I do not even need this bandage any longer," he said, reaching up to remove it.

"Greenleaf!" Elrond exclaimed.

Legolas lowered his arms. "It was worth a try," he said, looking sheepish.

Aragorn smiled, standing from his chair. "Well, let us go, then."

Legolas stood with a smile, glad for Aragorn's understanding.

Elrond secretly found it amusing that Aragorn didn't think Legolas capable of going alone, but he said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself.

The two friends went outside, and Legolas was bombarded with the trees' excitement and relief, who he heard begin passing along news to the sad apple tree. As they neared it, Legolas could feel the poor tree's nervousness. Its leaves quivered but it was silent, waiting for the elf to reach it.

Legolas approached the tree and placed his hands on the bark, closing his eyes.

_Highness! Forgive me, please!_

_There is no need, mellon-nin, _said Legolas. _It was not your fault._

_If my root had not been there, you would not have fallen,_ argued the tree.

_Can you control where your roots grow?_ Legolas asked.

The tree hesitated. _No._

_Then you have no blame, _Legolas said.

The tree was quiet for a few seconds, but Legolas could feel its distress lessening.

_That it true, _it said. _Thank you._

_You are welcome._

Legolas let go of the tree, reopening his eyes.

_You still wear a bandage, _the tree said.

_Needlessly,_ said Legolas. _Elrond will not yet allow me to remove it._

The tree laughed. _Perhaps he fears that your head needs protection from further mishap._

Legolas nodded with a smile. _Undoubtedly. _He looked at Aragorn, to see the human watching, wishing that he could hear the tree too.

"Ready to go back inside?" the human asked.

Legolas made a face. "No," he said, sitting against the tree.

Aragorn shook his head, not surprised. He started to sit, but Legolas said, "Stop."

The human halted and looked at him, and Legolas motioned with his finger. "Stand there."

Puzzled, Aragorn obeyed, standing to the elf's left.

"Move over a little more," Legolas said.

Aragorn obeyed.

"Good," said Legolas. "Catch."

Hearing a sudden rustle, Aragorn looked up just in time to catch two apples. He stared at them in shock, before looking back up at the tree.

Legolas laughed, and Aragorn joined him, sitting and handing one to the elf.

Sunset soon approached, and the two friends could be found still sitting there, enjoying nature's beautiful display and each other's company.

THE END


	12. Mercy

**Mercy  
A LOTR snippet by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Thranduil, or any other LOTR character.**

**Hey everyone! I wrote this snippet in May, and couldn't wait to post! It could've been divided into two chapters, but I know how badly everyone's waiting to read 'Betrayed', so I decided to post the whole thing at once. Enjoy! ;)**

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"I tell you, you have the wrong elf!"

The group of humans laughed as they pulled their bound prisoner into their camp.

"You lie!" one of them shouted. "I saw you do it!"

"What reason have I to kill a lone human?" the elf exclaimed.

"That is what we wish you to tell us!" said another.

The elf stumbled as he was pushed to the ground. "You have no right to treat me so!"

"Oh?" said the man who had tied him up. "And who do you claim to be? The worthless elven-king's son?"

Everyone laughed, and Legolas silently fumed.

The day had begun well—Legolas had been returning to Mirkwood after visiting Imladris. He would have arrived home later that day, but his plans were brought to a painful halt when an arrow had suddenly come out of nowhere and found a home in his leg. A group of men had burst out of the woods, and Legolas had been shocked that he hadn't heard them coming. They were a very quiet lot, obviously skilled at hiding. From what, Legolas did not know. "What proof have you that I committed this murder?" he demanded.

"My own eyes," said the same man who'd made the ridiculous claim.

"Then you are obviously short-sighted," Legolas shot back.

The man walked over to the downed elf and grabbed the arrow, grinding it deeper into the wound.

Legolas was unable to mask his reaction; the arrow was lodged in the bone of his calf, and the pain made him feel sick.

The man laughed when the elf's face went deathly pale. He flicked the arrow with his finger, grinning as Legolas swayed where he sat.

"I…did not…kill…anyone," Legolas gasped, eyes closed tight as he tried to stay upright.

The man's smile turned into a frown as he stood. "I say we kill him!"

Their leader, a middle-aged man named Doran, walked closer. "Are you sure that he is the one that you saw, Carden?"

Carden blinked. "Of course! You doubt me?"

"I never knew the elves to kill without cause," said Doran. "What could he have against your brother? A man that he has likely never even seen?"

Carden shook his head. "I know not. All I _do_ know is that Cyric is dead, and I saw this creature kill him! Look at his yellow hair. Have any of us the same? I know what I saw!"

Doran looked at their prisoner, admitting to himself that the light elf definitely stood out amongst the group. "I need to think. Let us first bury your brother."

Carden lowered his head and sighed, closing his eyes.

Doran put a hand on the other man's shoulder in comfort, before walking towards wherever the dead man's body lay.

"I—I cannot," said Carden. "I do not wish to see…"

Doran nodded, sympathetically. "Stay here, then. Watch the elf."

Carden fought to hide a smile at his leader's words. Instead, he lowered his head further and nodded.

After the six men walked off, Carden turned and looked at Legolas, the man's sad expression turning to one of maliciousness as he grinned evilly.

"_You_ killed him," Legolas stated, sounding unsurprised.

Carden nodded as he approached the elf. "Of course. But do not bother telling them, for they will not believe you. Now; we must continue with our charade!" With that, he kicked Legolas in the side, knocking him to the ground.

Legolas closed his eyes, trying to show no reaction to the blows as he silently took the beating, having no way to stop it.

"Carden!" they suddenly heard.

Opening his eyes, Legolas watched another man rushing over.

"Doran sent me back," said the man. "He didn't want you to be alone in your grief." It was a lie; he'd been sent to ensure that Carden didn't kill the elf.

Carden was skilled at manipulation, and his expression immediately changed into a saddened one. He covered his face with one hand and allowed the other man to lead him away.

Legolas lay motionless, trying to ignore his pain and weakness as blood continued to flow from his wound.

The group of men soon returned, and Doran looked at Carden before heading towards the elf, picking up a pack of healing supplies along the way.

"What are you doing?" Carden exclaimed.

Doran knelt beside Legolas and took hold of the arrow. "I will not let him bleed to death before we even decide what to do with him."

"Decide?" said Carden. "He deserves death!"

"One does not simply kill an elf," said Doran, yanking the arrow free.

Legolas clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, practically biting his tongue to avoid crying out in agony.

Doran frowned when he saw that the tip of the arrow was missing. He looked at the elf's face, seeing how the proud being tried to control himself. He frowned at the sight of a red mark the size of a fist on the pale elf's left cheek. It was obvious what had occurred while they'd been burying their friend. He said nothing though, understanding Carden's anger at the sudden loss of his brother. But still, he couldn't imagine an elf being a cold-blooded murderer.

"You waste your time," said Carden. "He cannot be allowed to live! Do not waste our supplies on a filthy elf!"

"Filthy elf?" Doran repeated. "They are a race of living beings like our own. Why do you hate elves?"

Carden realized his blunder and quickly changed his demeanor. "I do not. I simply hate my brother's murderer! I would ask _him_ why he hates humans!"

Doran looked at Legolas again, finding the elf's eyes open as he looked at Carden. His expression did not show hate. Rather, it showed longsuffering and what looked like tiredness; mental tiredness. He wondered what this elf had been through in the past.

"I do not," said Legolas. "My truest friend is human."

"Really, elf, we believe _that_!" said Carden, sarcastically.

Legolas spoke no more, sighing and closing his eyes.

Doran, troubled now, continued to treat the elf's wound. He took a dagger out of his boot and tapped the elf's shoulder.

Legolas reopened his eyes.

"The arrow-tip is still in the bone," Doran told him. "Brace yourself."

Those were the last words that Legolas wanted to hear. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

Doran dug the dagger into the wound, hoping to find the tip quickly. He had to cut the wound wider, and he heard a soft sound make its way past the elf's lips. There was too much blood for him to effectively see, but the elf was thin, so there wasn't much searching to do.

Finally, he spotted the small, gray piece of metal, and he used the dagger to flick it free from the bone, which he could see had a crack along its length.

Removing the arrow-tip with his fingers, he checked to be sure that it was intact before flinging it away. He took a needle and thread out of his pack and stitched the wound closed. Doran was not a healer, by any means, but a man his age had certainly needed to mend a few injuries in his lifetime.

Pulling bandages out of the pack, he wrapped the wound. "Someone fetch me some small tree branches," he called out.

The men looked at each other before one of them stood and began looking around. He wasn't sure how big Doran wanted them to be, so he gathered a bunch and brought them over, dropping them beside him.

Doran took four of the sticks and laid them against the elf's leg before wrapping it again. When he finished, he looked at the elf's face to see that he'd lost consciousness at some point during the treatment.

Carden stalked over. "When do we kill him?"

Doran shook his head. "I will not slaughter a live being without cause."

Carden blinked. "Without cause! He killed my brother! What do you want, a trial? You cannot stop me from getting vengeance!"

With that, he pulled out a knife.

Doran leaped up and stood in front of him. "Justice and vengeance are not the same!"

Carden sputtered. "A life for a life! I care not what it is called!"

Doran forcefully grabbed the knife. "Do you wish to become a murderer also? I shall think on this matter. Go hunt for our supper if you wish to kill something!"

Carden glared, breathing heavily. Suddenly remembering his ruse, he tried to look grieved as he walked off.

Doran watched him go before heading towards the elf's weapons. He stared at the bow, quiver of arrows, and ivory-handled knives, before picking up the blades and noting the lack of blood on either. He supposed that the elf could've wiped them off after committing the crime, but he couldn't help but wonder why the elf hadn't simply shot Cyric instead. Shaking his head, he put the knives back down.

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Legolas woke to an aching body and a fierce, sharp pain in his leg. He blinked groggily as he looked at the group of men surrounding a fire. It was not yet dark; they were using it to roast some rabbits.

Doran sat nearby, and the human looked at him when the elf shifted slightly. He said nothing, watching the injured being. "What is your age?" he suddenly asked.

Legolas blinked, wondering at the odd question. "I am two thousand-nine hundred and twenty-seven."

Doran's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Did I imagine the two thousand-nine hundred part?"

Legolas smiled slightly, closing his eyes. "No. My father is over six thousand."

Doran was shocked. He knew that elves were immortal, but this one looked comparable to a twenty-five-year-old human. "What is your name?"

Legolas knew that it was dangerous to reveal himself as Mirkwood's Prince. "Estel," he said.

"What does that mean?" Doran asked.

"Hope."

Doran looked towards the fire, at Carden who sat with his back to them. "Answer me truthfully. Did you kill Cyric?"

Legolas shook his head. "No. But it is my word against your son's."

Doran looked at him again. "Son? Carden is not my son."

Legolas blinked. "Ah. Forgive me, it had seemed so, to my eyes."

Doran shook his head.

Just then, one of the men brought a plate of food to Doran.

"Bring some for him," Doran said, gesturing towards Legolas.

The man hesitated. "How will he eat while bound?"

Doran looked at the elf, at his arms tied tightly behind his back. "Tie him around a tree and let his arms lose while he eats."

The man nodded and went over to Legolas, taking his arms and dragging him.

The Mirkwood Prince had no means by which to resist, with his arms bound and one leg useless.

Carden saw what was going on and ran over, grabbing some rope along the way.

They sat Legolas against the tree and Carden tightly looped the rope around Legolas over and over. As he tied it, the other man grabbed the rope around Legolas' shoulders and tried to force it down.

Carden didn't know what he was doing until he came back around the tree, to see the other man trying to untie Legolas' arms and pull them through the rope. "What are you doing!"

"He needs his hands free so that he can eat."

"Who said he can eat!" Carden exclaimed.

"I did," said Doran.

Carden said nothing, but he was beginning to wish that he had killed Doran too.

Night quickly fell and Legolas dozed against the tree. The men had tied his arms around the trunk after he'd eaten, and he was exhausted and in pain. He found himself actually wishing for some of Elrond's painkilling tea.

Doran sat near the elf, keeping watch to guard him from Carden. Most of the men were asleep, and as dawn approached, he was surprised to hear a sudden voice.

"Carden killed him."

Doran looked at the elf. "What?"

"He told me," Legolas said. "After you went to bury the dead man. He said that you would never believe me if I told you his words."

Doran sighed, finding himself unsure who to believe. "What is your weapon of choice?" he suddenly asked.

"My bow," said Legolas.

"Not your knives?"

Legolas shook his head. "The knives are secondary, for when I run out of arrows." He watched Doran, wondering at the questions.

"Secondary," Doran repeated, obviously thinking.

They were quiet for a while, until Doran came to a realization. "You speak the truth," he suddenly said. "Cyric was knifed in the _chest_, not the back; he would not allow someone to walk up to him and stab him to death! He was killed by someone that he trusted…someone who was walking beside him! It was indeed Carden; for he claims to have seen you do it!"

Legolas watched as Doran stood and went behind the tree, to undo the knots. "I am setting you free," he said. "I will simply tell the others that you got lose and overpowered me—"

"What are you doing, Doran?"

Legolas and Doran both looked up to see Carden approaching. "I am checking the knots," said Doran, thinking quickly. "Did you sleep well?"

Carden sighed. "I will sleep better when this elf has paid for his crime! What have you _decided_?" he asked, sarcastically.

Doran walked around the tree. He saw that others had woken, and did not want to voice his suspicion of Carden for everyone to hear. "I have decided to show mercy and spare the elf's life. People of his race are not meant to die."

Carden exploded. He was so shocked at Doran's words that he couldn't even voice a reply. Instead, he lunged for Legolas and grabbed him by the throat, choking him and slamming his head against the tree.

"Carden! Stop!" Doran exclaimed, trying to pull the man away from the elf.

A sudden _shoof_ filled the air, and an arrow lodged itself in Carden's neck, spraying Legolas and Doran with blood.

Carden went limp in Doran's arms and fell on top of Legolas.

The rest of the men jumped up in shock, grabbing their own weapons and looking around for the threat.

Doran pulled Carden off the elf and knelt beside him. The human was still alive, to his surprise; the arrow had entered the side of his neck towards the back, missing the windpipe and throat.

Legolas tried to catch his breath, coughing with the effort as spots danced before his eyes and the landscape spun dizzily.

Elves suddenly poured out of the woods. "Legolas!" one of them yelled.

"Majesty, wait!" said another.

Doran looked up as his men were disarmed, and he stared at the one who'd been called 'Majesty'. "You _are_ the King's son!" he said to Legolas.

Legolas gave no reply, unable to as Thranduil dropped to his knees before the tree and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Are you all right!" Thranduil exclaimed, looking his son over, hoping that all the blood he saw belonged to the dying human.

"Yes," said Legolas. He caught sight of Doran's shocked face. "Would you have believed me?" he asked the human.

Doran made a face as if to say, 'probably not'. He was suddenly grabbed by the Mirkwood warriors and pulled to his feet.

"Wait!" Legolas told them, as Thranduil began to untie him. "He tried to let me go! He suffers no blame in this incident!"

Heredil, the one who'd shot Carden, nodded to the soldiers, who released him. "What happened to your leg?"

"Arrow wound. Doran tended it."

"You are Doran?" Thranduil asked, as he pulled the ropes away from his son.

The human nodded. "One of my men was murdered and your son was accused. I discovered the true killer and attempted to free your son."

"Who was the killer?"

"Him," Doran answered, pointing to Carden.

At those words, Carden made a sound that could only be described as an evil laugh, before he suddenly took his last breath and died.

Heredil and Thranduil helped Legolas to his feet, the King pulling him close to lean against him. "Had anyone else a part to play in this crime against my son?" he asked, angrily.

"No," Doran said.

"He speaks the truth," Legolas said. "Let them go free, father, no one else did me any harm. Carden told them that he saw me commit the murder; they had no reason to suspect a lie."

Thranduil looked at the group of men for a minute before nodding reluctantly. "All right. I assume that you were journeying through Mirkwood on your way elsewhere?"

Doran nodded.

"I simply ask that you go on your way, then," said the King. "And…thank you for helping my son."

Doran smiled and bowed before the King and Prince. "It was my pleasure; thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty." Then he looked at Legolas. "Be well, Prince Legolas."

Legolas smiled. "You also."

With that, Thranduil and Heredil helped Legolas limp towards the horses.

The younger elf was trying so hard not to outwardly show his pain, that he didn't realize which horse they were nearing until it knelt without being told to.

Legolas smiled and petted Gwaeren's mane. "I knew that I could count on you, mellon-nin," he said, knowing that she'd run home to Mirkwood to get help when he'd been captured.

The horse gave a neigh and stood after Legolas was seated.

Thranduil, Heredil, and the Mirkwood warriors mounted their own steeds. As they began to ride off, Legolas turned and waved to Doran in silent thanks.

Doran smiled and waved back, watching as the elves rode into the woods and disappeared.

THE END


	13. Elrond's 'Accident'

**This is an Elf…This is an Elf on Drugs…any Questions?  
**A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas, Aragorn, or Elrond

You're probably all gonna think I'm nuts after reading this one, LOL!  
Dedicated to **Ruse**; this one's for you, gwathel-nin! ;)

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"Lord Elrond?"

The Lord of Imladris looked up from the table that he stood at, seeing an elf standing at the door. "Yes?"

"Someone is arriving," said the elf. "He seems very hurried."

Frowning, Elrond left the room, worry growing in his mind at who the person was, and whether or not he carried an urgent message.

Quickly rushing down the hall, Elrond reached the door and threw it open, seeing that there were now two riders, not one. The one in front finally drew close enough to be recognized, and he saw that it was Legolas, and the person behind him was Aragorn. They were both smiling, and Elrond's worry melted away.

The young elf and human dismounted and Legolas bowed, laughing at his friend. They'd obviously had a race, and Legolas had won.

Elrond turned and walked back into the house, relieved that nothing had been amiss. He suddenly realized that he'd left important work behind, and hurried down the hall. When he reached the door, he threw it open, but it was already too late.

Thick smoke filled the room, from herbs that had boiled over in Elrond's absence.

Elrond rushed to the table, seeing with dismay that the smoke came not just from the hot pans, but from a puddle on the table where the contents of both pans had spilled and mixed together. Cursing inwardly, Elrond removed the pots from their fires and grabbed a towel, trying to quickly wipe up the spill before it produced more fumes. The liquid was extremely hot, and he had to drop the towel when it burned his hand. Giving up on that, he rushed towards the window and opened it, desperate to clear the air.

Going back to the table, he again tried to wipe up the liquid, ignoring the lightheadedness that suddenly began growing in his head. He had only one goal; rid the room of the fumes before anyone else was exposed to them. He had no regard for himself, and he would soon come to regret that…

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Legolas and Aragorn went to the kitchens, hungry after their race.

"Of course you won," said Aragorn. "I let you."

Legolas shot him a skeptical look. "If only that were possible, mellon-nin!"

The human chuckled, grabbing an apple from a bowl.

Sudden laughter greeted their ears, and they both looked towards the door.

"That sounds like my father," said Aragorn, heading for the door and opening it. What he saw made him gasp.

Elrond was leaning against the wall across from the kitchen, seemingly stuck there as he laughed at…nothing.

"Ada?" said Aragorn, confused at the odd sight. He ran over to the elf and reached out to grab his arms, but he still had the apple in his hand. So he stuck it in his mouth, and took hold of his father.

Elrond opened his eyes when he felt someone touch him. When he saw Aragorn with the apple sticking out of his mouth, he laughed all the harder.

"Ada?" Aragorn mumbled around the apple, incredulous.

Legolas was speechless, standing beside the human, staring at the apparently insane older elf.

Elrond continued to laugh, his body nearly doubled-over.

Aragorn looked at Legolas with concern written all over his face.

Legolas returned the look, bewildered.

They both suddenly had the same thought; together, Legolas and Aragorn both grabbed the ancient elf-lord and pulled him down the hall and into a nearby sitting room.

Elrond submitted, still laughing.

Once inside, they brought him over to a couch and sat him down, staring at him in bewilderment. They sat on either side of him and Legolas grabbed his arm, squeezing it to get his attention. "Elrond!" he said. "What has happened to you? Why do you act as such?"

Elrond glanced at him but didn't speak, still laughing. He had calmed somewhat but suddenly winced, no doubt due to stomach muscles that were protesting his non-stop mirth.

Aragorn suddenly frowned and sniffed the air, bending his head to follow an odd scent. He lowered his face to his father's robes, finding that the smell was coming from his clothes. He quickly jerked away when he realized what it was. "Herbs have done this to him!" he said. "He has somehow inhaled fumes!"

Legolas' eyes widened and he likewise bent to sniff Elrond's robes.

"No, Legolas, don't inhale it!" Aragorn said.

But it was too late. Unfortunately for the elf, he unknowingly picked a spot on Elrond's sleeve that had gotten soaked by the mixture. The strong odor overwhelmed his senses and he reeled dizzily, actually slipping off the couch and landing on the floor.

Elrond had nearly stopped laughing by now, but the sight of Legolas falling off the couch set him off again.

Aragorn knelt next to his friend, putting a hand on the side of his face. "Legolas!"

The Mirkwood Prince looked at him lethargically, nearly unable to keep his eyes open. "Wha—?" he said.

Aragorn sighed. "He must've been boiling herbs and two of them accidentally mixed together. I recognize both scents; one is a sleeping herb, and the other a stimulant. They interact very oddly with each other."

Legolas tried to follow his friend's words. He was suddenly exhausted, but at the same time, he could feel that his heartbeat had quickened.

Aragorn sighed at the sight of his friend limply slouched against the front of the couch. Looking up at his father, he sat beside him again. "Ada," he said, grabbing his shoulders firmly. "Listen to me! You have accidentally inhaled some fumes. You must calm yourself."

For the first time, Elrond spoke. "I _am_ calm!" he said, cheerily.

Aragorn grabbed the elf's wrist and felt the pulse, finding it racing. "You should lie down, ada—" he said, trying to force Elrond flat.

"No!" said Elrond, pushing him away and standing. He wobbled for a few steps, before suddenly hearing a symphony of birds outside in the garden. "A lively tune," he said. "I am inspired to dance!"

And with that, Elrond, Lord of Imladris, started removing his clothes.

"Ada!" said Aragorn, rushing over and grabbing his arms.

Elrond struggled, dropping the robe to the floor, leaving him clad only in his leggings and boots.

Aragorn pushed his father back towards the couch, but just before they reached it, Elrond suddenly went limp.

Aragorn caught the elf and lowered him to the couch, grabbing his wrist to feel his pulse. He was relieved to find that his heartbeat had slowed; the stimulant having worn off enough to let the sleeping herb take over.

"Estel?"

Aragorn looked down at Legolas, who was still in the same spot, eyes half closed.

"Tell me that I did _not_ see what I think I just saw," said the blond elf.

Aragorn said nothing at first, before suddenly breaking out in laughter.

Legolas opened his eyes wider, wondering if Aragorn had somehow been affected by the herbs himself.

Aragorn shook his head, bending down to help his friend. "Indeed you did," he said, placing his hands under the elf's arms and pulling him up to his feet.

Legolas staggered to a chair, inwardly grateful for his friend's helping hands. "I'd hoped that I imagined it," he said.

Aragorn chuckled again, as Legolas collapsed into the soft armchair. "This will make for a wonderful story when he wakes."

Legolas smiled, his eyes dragging shut in sleep thanks to the strong effects of the herb's fumes. "If I am asleep, do not tell him until I have woken," he said, eyes closing completely. "I wish to…see…his reaction…"

Aragorn smiled as Legolas fell asleep. He looked at his father again, who also slept with his eyes closed thanks to the strength of the herbs. Unable to resist another chuckle, the human sat down, waiting for the two elves to wake.

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Elrond was shocked when he woke feeling pain.

_Why does my head ache? _he asked himself. _I am an elf; elves cannot fall ill. I do not recall injuring myself…_

"Ada?"

Elrond was slightly startled by the sudden voice and he opened his eyes, finding Aragorn's nose only inches from his own.

"Estel?" said Elrond, glancing around the room. "What am I doing here? What happened?"

Legolas, still slouched in a nearby armchair—but awake—started to laugh.

Elrond sat up, ignoring his headache. He found to his shock that he was missing his robe. Opening his mouth to ask why, he spotted it hanging over a chair before the open window.

Aragorn had an amused look on his face, seeming on the brink of laughter.

Elrond looked at his son. "Tell me why I am lying here, Estel."

The human glanced at Legolas. "We were in the kitchens when we suddenly heard someone laughing," he said. "We went into the hall to find that it was you."

Elrond frowned. "Me?"

Aragorn nodded. "Aye, you were quite close to hysteria. We brought you in here, where you proceeded to strip yourself, to the song of the birds," he deadpanned.

Elrond's mouth hung open. He tried to speak, but no words came out.

Legolas was still laughing, not even bothering to hide it.

"How did you inhale those fumes, ada?" Aragorn asked, trying desperately to wipe the smile off his face.

"Fumes?" said Elrond, puzzled. He suddenly remembered what he'd been doing earlier that day, and groaned, shaking his head. "It was an accident."

"I should hope so!" said Aragorn, not able to hold in his laughter anymore.

Elrond shot annoyed looks at them, before frowning at the sight of Legolas' apparent lethargy. "Dare I ask what happened to _you_?"

"Your robes were saturated with the fumes," said Aragorn.

Elrond's eyebrows raised, shocked to hear that the herbs' vapors in his clothes had been strong enough to affect another person. He understood now why Aragorn had put his robe before the open window. "Estel…" he said. "What you said about my…er…actions…?"

"A lively tune," said Legolas, mimicking Elrond's voice rather well, to their surprise. "I am inspired to dance!"

Elrond felt the heat of embarrassment flood his face.

"Oh yes, ada," said Aragorn, chuckling. "Tis true. Thankfully, I was able to stop you before you went further than your robe."

Elrond sighed, covering his eyes with one hand.

"Be glad that _we_ are the only ones who witnessed the display!" said Legolas.

Elrond shot a stern look at the Mirkwood Prince. "You will _not_ speak of this incident with others!"

Legolas blinked, putting on his most innocent expression. "Would _I_ do something like that?"

Elrond closed his eyes, dropping his face in his hands. "Of course," he said, sarcastically. "I had better sail _now_, before the entire Valley finds out about this."

"We will not speak of it," said Aragorn, shooting Legolas a look.

"Aye," said Legolas. "Besides, I am sure that no one would believe us!"

Elrond inwardly knew that he was right, but he still shot the younger elf a warning glare.

Legolas smiled in reply, adopting his innocent look again.

Sighing, Elrond stood and walked—somewhat unsteadily—over to his robe, picking it up and sniffing it cautiously, not letting his face get too close. He could still smell the herbs, but the odor wasn't too bad. Tucking it under his arm, he walked towards the door, feeling Aragorn and Legolas' eyes watching him. "Remember what I said," he told them, opening the door. "Not a word to _anyone_. I have _many_ interesting stories to share about the two of _you, _and if I am forced, I will have no trouble announcing them to anyone who will listen! Understood?"

Legolas and Aragorn both looked apprehensive at Elrond's words.

Elrond gave them the most devious smile that he could muster and left the room, cringing at the sound of the other two's laughter.

THE END

HA! Too funny! Do you all remember that old commercial with the egg? "This is your brain..." they showed an egg still in the shell. "This is your brain on drugs..." they broke it in a pan where it started frying. "Any questions?" Cool commercial. That came to me when I was trying to think up a title for this goofy snippet, lol! Allllllllllllrighty then! lol


	14. Snowballed

**Snowballed**  
A Lord of the Rings snippet by Deana Lisi  
I don't own Legolas or Aragorn.

This was written for one of the Teitho Contests…I don't remember what I ate before writing this, but I'm sure you can blame it on the food, LOL!

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Legolas frowned as Aragorn plopped a hat on his head. "What are you doing!" he asked.

"Making sure you keep warm, so that you do not get ill!" said the human, grabbing his friend's hand and shoving it into a glove, picking it up when it fell as Legolas pulled away.

"What?" the Prince exclaimed, baffled. "Have you taken leave of your senses? Elves cannot _get_ ill!"

Aragorn grabbed the elf's hand again and succeeded this time. "Has that fact ever stopped you before? Has that fact prevented you from almost dying more often than we can count? This way, the impossible won't have a _chance_ to happen!" He wrapped a scarf around his friend's neck, accidentally wrapping it too tight.

Legolas gasped, unable to inhale as he stumbled back and tried to unwrap the scarf. He had to do it three times before he was able to breathe again. "Stop this!" he rasped, clutching his throat and backing against the wall. "I _cannot_ get ill!"

Aragorn picked up the scarf and walked towards him, as if not hearing his words.

Legolas' nose suddenly tickled, and he sneezed.

Aragorn stopped dead, his mouth dropping open. "YOU SNEEZED!" he shouted.

"It was merely stirred up dust from the wall!" Legolas exclaimed.

The words fell on deaf ears as Aragorn wrapped the scarf around his neck again.

"Aaaargh!" Legolas exclaimed, sticking his hand between the scarf and his neck so he wouldn't strangle again.

Aragorn let go and Legolas tried to pull his hand out, but it was stuck. "Aragorn!" he exclaimed.

The human didn't notice his friend's dilemma as he brought over a heavy coat, plopping it on the elf's shoulders and sticking Legolas' left arm in it. He reached for the elf's right arm, but couldn't find it. "Legolas!" he shouted. "Where's your other arm! It's gone!"

"IT'S RIGHT HERE!" the elf screeched, frustrated. "Stuck! Thanks to YOU!"

"Oh good," said Aragorn, reaching up and grabbing his friend's arm. He yanked on it hard, abruptly pulling the unsuspecting elf to his knees.

"OW!" Legolas exclaimed, arm still stuck. "Ow! What are you DOING to me!"

Aragorn knelt and tugged on his friend's arm again, but the elf's words made him stop and frown. "What am I doing? I already told you. Are you ill already?" He felt Legolas' forehead, checking for fever.

"NO!" Legolas shouted, arm still stuck and knees sending numerous pain complaints to his brain. "NO, I am _not_ ill! How _can_ I be if I have not even gone outside yet!" He blinked. "I cannot get ill even if I _do_ go outside! With NO COAT! Or a hat! Or gloooooooooves!"

The elf's outburst only served to make Aragorn think that something was truly wrong with him, and the human pushed Legolas to lie flat. "Be calm, my friend! You shall be well after I give you some healing herbs!"

Legolas watched as the human scurried away, shaking his head as he lay there—arm still stuck. He suddenly realized that this was his chance to get away, and he awkwardly got to his feet and dashed towards the door.

"No, Legolas!" he suddenly heard. "You cannot go out in the cold while ill!"

Legolas kept running, but when he turned to see if Aragorn followed, he slipped and rolled in the snow.

"AI!" he heard the human exclaim. "Now you are _injured_ too!"

Blinking the snow from his eyes, Legolas realized that the tumble had somehow freed his arm from the scarf and he jumped up and faced Aragorn, who ran towards him.

Aragorn stopped dead and tried to duck from the white missile that suddenly flew at him.

"I—(splat)—AM—(splat)—NOT—(splat)—ILL!" Legolas shouted, using snowballs to emphasize his words.

Aragorn turned to run away from his friend, and the elf quickly gave chase.

"Legolas! Stop! Legolas!"

_"Legolas?"_

The Mirkwood Prince suddenly bolted upright from where he slept, blinking and looking around their campsite.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said again, sitting beside him. "You were thrashing in your sleep! Are you all right?"

"Of course!" Legolas shouted, still lost in his dream. "Elves do NOT GET ILL!"

Aragorn frowned. "I know that, mellon-nin..." His eyes widened when the elf suddenly grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at him. "What was that for?"

"For being an annoying human!" Legolas said.

Aragorn laughed, but gasped when another one hit him in the face.

Legolas didn't stop, enjoying his revenge.

Aragorn realized that he was in 'danger', and leaped to his feet. He ran the other way, his clothes quickly turning white as the elf continued to pelt him with snowballs.

Legolas caught up to the human and tackled him, throwing them both down in the snow. He grabbed the biggest snowball that he could make and squashed it on his friend's head.

Aragorn stared at him, completely bewildered, as chunks of snow fell from his hair.

"Well," said Legolas. "That was enjoyable." The elf stood, dusted himself off, and walked away.

Aragorn, quite bedraggled, watched as the elf walked back to the campsite. "What did I _do_?" he said.

THE END

Okaaaaaaaaay. LOL


	15. A Greenleaf in Winter

**A Greenleaf in Winter**  
A Lord of the Rings snippet by Deana Lisi

Disclaimer: I don't own any LOTR characters. I do however own the name of 'Linwë'  
for Legolas' mother, since Tolkien never named her!

Hey everyone! In some of my stories, I've remarked that Legolas was born too early. I wrote specific details especially in 'The Sound of Silence' chapter 18, and 'Defying Death' chapter 15, and since so many people asked me to write what happened, I finally did. Enjoy! ;)

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King Thranduil woke to a sudden moan. He looked at his wife, who slept in his arms. "Linwë?" he said, concerned. "What is it?"

The queen's eyes were open, and she looked up at him, confused. She shifted a little, placing one hand on her pregnant belly. "I…I do not know," she said. "I was asleep, and a sudden pain woke me."

Thranduil sat up, looking at her and placing a hand over hers. "Are you in pain now?" he asked, worriedly. _It is much too soon! _he thought.

Linwë shook her head. "No."

Thranduil inwardly sighed with relief. "Perhaps you were dreaming of our elfling's birth?"

Linwë frowned, thinking. "I cannot recall."

Thranduil lay down beside her again. "Let us see if it happens again," he said, gently. In truth, his heart was beating faster than he could count, but he had to be calm for Linwë's sake.

The two elves lay quietly for a while, hands clasped together. About ten minutes passed, and just when they were believing that it _had_ been a dream, Linwë gave a loud gasp and grasped her stomach. "Thranduil!" she exclaimed, in fear.

The King jumped out of the bed and slid his arms under his wife, lifting her and rushing out of the room. "Elrond!" he shouted, not knowing or caring what time it was.

The Lord of Imladris opened the door to his bedchamber, looking sleep-disheveled but alert.

"The child comes!" Thranduil said, not stopping as he carried his wife down the hall.

Elrond blinked, wondering if he'd heard correctly. The elfling was still a few months away from it's birth date, and it was not common for an elfling to be born so early…or for an elf to miscarry her child without reason.

They arrived at the healing wing and Elrond opened the door for Thranduil, who quickly brought her in and laid her on a bed.

Elrond rushed around the room, gathering supplies and herbs. "Tell me what happened!" he said.

"Linwë had two pains," said Thranduil, holding his wife's hand, who was quietly crying in fear for her child.

Elrond brought his supplies over to the bed, and he gently placed his hands on the queen's belly.

Thranduil watched, suddenly grateful that they were in Rivendell. He and Linwë had come for a visit two months before, intent on staying for a few weeks. An unexpectedly early winter struck Mirkwood though, and word had come to them that the High Pass was blocked, forcing them to remain in Imladris. As they had no idea when the Pass would be clear once more, it appeared that Mirkwood would be missing their royal members for the entire winter.

Linwë suddenly gave a gasp of pain, and Elrond stopped his ministrations until the contraction eased.

The King and Queen were silent as Elrond continued his examination, allowing him to concentrate fully on what he was doing. Finally, the healer sighed and looked at them.

"The child is indeed coming, there is nothing that I can do to stop it."

Linwë gave a sob at that, covering her face with her hands. Thranduil sighed heavily and lowered his head. Neither of them asked why there was nothing that he could do, knowing that Elrond was the best healer in all of Middle Earth. If he said that nothing could be done, than he was right.

"Here, Linwë," said Elrond, offering her a cup. "This should help the pain."

Linwë obediently drank.

"When do you think it will be born?" Thranduil asked, still holding his wife's hand.

"Rather soon, and likely fast," said Elrond. "The child is extremely small, therefore it will not require Linwë's body to open to the extent that it would need to with a…" he hesitated on his next words. "Normal-sized elfling."

Linwë gave another pained cry, closing her eyes and panting.

"You see," said Elrond, remarking on how soon this new pain had come. He gently felt the queen's stomach. "I require your help, Thranduil."

The King looked at him.

"The child is not in the proper position," said Elrond. "They seldom are at this stage. I need you to place your hands here…" he demonstrated to his friend, placing his hands on the side of Linwë's stomach and pushing them in.

Thranduil blinked, but he complied, gently. Elrond placed his hands over Thranduil's and pushed them deeper.

"Is that not too hard!" Thranduil exclaimed, shocked at the amount of force that Elrond wanted him to use.

The healer shook his head, going to the other side of the bed. "We need to turn it."

The King watched nervously as Elrond repeatedly pushed on Linwë's stomach, forcing the baby's head to point downwards. He felt it turn and gasped in shock.

Elrond smiled at his friend's reaction, motioning for Thranduil to let go.

After that, all they could do was wait. Linwë's pains came sooner and sooner at a very fast pace, and only an hour after arriving, Elrond said the words that Linwë was dreading.

"With your next pain, push."

"I do not wish to!" Linwë exclaimed, sobbing. "It is too soon, my baby will die!"

Elrond closed his eyes with a sigh. She was right; the baby's chances at survival were slim. He knew that he would be nearly as heartbroken as Thranduil and Linwë if the elfling died. "You must," he said, his hands gently squeezing the Queen's knees. "None of us can change this. The sooner the baby is born, the sooner I can do whatever is possible to save it."

Those words changed the queen's mind, and on the next contraction, she obeyed him.

Elrond watched for any sign of the elfling, knowing that it would be born very quickly because of its small size. Just before Linwë stopped pushing, he caught a glimpse of it. "Good," he said. "Push again."

Linwë breathed heavily to catch her breath, and as the next pain quickly grew, she pushed, giving a grunt of effort.

Thranduil held her hand tightly, though curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward to watch.

Elrond reached forward as the baby's head appeared, and it slipped out quickly, into his hands. He took a towel and wiped the baby's face. "Once more, Linwë!" he encouraged.

Linwë gave a sob as she pushed, terrified that her baby was already dead.

The elfling slid free of its mother and Elrond quickly laid it down, rubbing it vigorously to stimulate its little body. He saw that it was a boy, and couldn't help but smile. _Mirkwood has its heir…if he lives. _

The baby made no sound or movement.

"No!" Linwë cried.

"Elrond!" Thranduil exclaimed, terrified.

"He does not breathe," Elrond said, nervously, lifting the elfling and gently blowing air into his mouth.

The King and Queen watched, tears slipping down both their cheeks.

Elrond continued to breathe into the baby, rubbing its chest to try to awaken his lungs. "Breathe," he whispered, tears filling his own eyes. "Please, breathe!"

What seemed minutes later—but was really only a few seconds—a strange sound emitted from the tiny elf.

Linwë gasped, and they watched as the baby's impossibly-tiny fists clenched and its little legs twitched. It gave a mew, and its little face screwed up with protest at its traumatic introduction to life.

It was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

Elrond sighed with incredible relief, knowing that the elfling had a chance at life, now.

The elfling opened his bright blue eyes, seemingly staring at the elf-lord in wonder.

"Give him to me!" Linwë exclaimed, frantically.

"A moment." Elrond laid the elfling down and grabbed a knife, cutting through the umbilical cord and tying a piece of string at the end to prevent it from bleeding. He noticed with distress that the elfling's cries were weak and breathless. He knew that the baby's lungs were not fully developed, and he feared that he would not survive long.

Linwë reached out for her baby and held him to her chest, gently stroking his tiny head. "Do not cry, my sweet little son!" she whispered.

Thranduil laid his hand on the baby's back, tears still coming from his eyes as he felt the tiny body quiver.

"Do not hold him that way," Elrond said, one hand on the Queen's stomach to feel for the last contraction that her body would give. "His breathing is difficult."

Thranduil gently turned the elfling from its stomach onto its back.

Elrond felt a spasm under his hand. "One gentle push, Linwë."

She obeyed, barely noticing as the afterbirth left her body; her mind focused entirely on her child.

Elrond quickly wrapped it in a towel for disposal before finishing his ministrations to the Queen, all the while monitoring the sounds coming from the elfling.

"He is beautiful!" Linwë whispered.

Thranduil smiled. "Aye, he is indeed."

"What shall we name him?" she asked.

Thranduil shook his head. They hadn't yet decided on a name, since they thought that they still had more time before its birth.

"I cannot believe it," Linwë said, eyes glued to her elfling. "At home, it snows, and yet he was born in Imladris amongst green leaves." She looked up at her husband. "He is our green leaf in winter."

Thranduil smiled. "Legolas."

Elrond shared the smile as he covered the Queen's lower half with a sheet. "A very fine name," he said. "May I borrow your green leaf so that I may see to his health?"

Linwë nodded, reluctantly handing the baby over.

Elrond smiled at the elfling as he carried it over to a nearby table. There was a towel laid there, and he gently laid the baby down.

Little Legolas still uttered weak mews, eyes closed.

The healer tried not to frown as he looked the baby over, aware that his parents were watching. He ran his hands along the little body, ensuring that his urgent turning in the womb and fast birth had not caused any injuries. Everything seemed to be fine, and he picked up each of Legolas' tiny limbs and gently poked them with a fingernail, watching for the baby's reaction. Each limb gave a brief jerk, to his relief. He leaned over the table and laid an ear on the tiny chest, listening to his lungs. He could see immediately that Legolas wasn't taking full breaths, and Elrond wished that he would stop crying so he could see how he breathed at rest. He then laid a finger over the baby's heart, and found it beating stronger than he expected…or maybe it was actually pounding because Legolas was crying.

Sliding one hand under the baby, he gently ran the other over the tiny head. The tiny wisps of hair were golden like his parents, and as he gave the baby's body another assessment, he realized that he had never seen a live infant this small in all of his millennia of life. The majority of Legolas' body fit in only one of his large hands.

Laying Legolas down again, he gently wrapped him in the towel and brought him back to his parents, handing him to Thranduil this time. "You have a beautiful son," he said.

Thranduil smiled, looking down at the tiny elfling. He started to ask something, but stopped. When Elrond looked askance at him, the King shook his head.

Aware that Thranduil wanted to ask him something out of Linwë's earshot, he didn't press him.

Dawn rose an hour later and Linwë fell asleep, exhausted from the sudden, traumatic birth.

Thranduil took the sleeping infant from her arms and quietly brought him over to Elrond; it was alarmingly significant that the healer was still in the room. "Elrond, my old friend," he started. "Tell me truthfully…will Legolas live?"

Elrond knew that that was the question that his friend had hesitated from asking earlier. He sighed. "It is difficult to say," he answered. He reached over and placed a hand on the tiny chest. "It is obvious that he cannot breathe correctly. His lungs are not yet fully formed."

Thranduil swallowed convulsively.

"But yet, his heart beats steadily," Elrond said. "If he is constantly watched for breathing difficulty, and is successfully helped if something happens, than I believe that he has a good chance…" He hesitated, not wishing to say his next words.

"What else?" asked the astute King.

Elrond sighed. "Elflings remain in the womb three months longer than humans, as we know…that is when the elven healing ability forms…"

The King's eyes grew wide. He looked down at the tiny infant, knowing that Legolas was just over three months early. "But…but…then he is at least at the stage of a normal human birth? Does that at least show that he will survive?"

Elrond sighed. "Since humans are born after nine months, they fully develop during that time. Elflings develop much slower…watch him breathe. I would place his lungs at the stage of a six or seven-month-unborn human."

Thranduil's heart filled with fear. "And he has no elven healing ability, because it has not yet formed?" he whispered.

"I cannot exactly be sure exactly _when_ in the womb the process begins," said the healer. "It may still form; he _is_ an elf. I _will_ say that the fact that he still lives at this moment is significant."

Thranduil smiled slightly, reaching a hand to clasp Elrond's shoulder. "Hannon le, mellon-nin," he said. "You saved his life, when you breathed for him. You truly are the best healer in all of Middle Earth."

Elrond returned the smile. "Thank you."

Legolas suddenly made a soft sound, moving his head slightly.

They both looked at him, watching as the infant pursed his lips a few times and continued to sleep.

As Elrond watched, he seemed to sense something that took him by surprise. He suddenly pictured in his mind Legolas as an adult, slaying orcs. In that moment, he knew that the tiny elfling would live and become one of Mirkwood's finest warriors.

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Elladan and Elrohir were surprised to not find their father or Thranduil and Linwë when they went to breakfast. Sitting down, they ate anyway, figuring that they would arrive at any moment. They began to worry when they never came, knowing that Linwë was in a delicate condition, and wondered if something had happened to her. Leaving the table, they quickly headed towards the healing wing.

As they entered the halls, a door opened ahead of them and their father stepped out, holding something in one arm.

"Ada!" Elladan called.

Elrond turned and held a finger to his lips. "Hush! Thranduil and Linwë sleep."

"What happ—" Elrohir's voice trailed off when he saw the tiny elf in his father's arm.

"Come," said Elrond, walking further down the hall.

The twins looked at each other in shock, before quickly following.

The second that they entered the other healing room, the twins began to ask questions.

"Is that their elfling!"

"How can it be? It is much too early!"

"Does it live?"

"Is it male or female?"

"Can I hold it?"

"Can _I_ hold it?"

Elrond looked up at the ceiling before addressing his sons. "Stop! Yes, it is their elfling. Yes, it was born too early. Yes it is indeed alive, and is male. No, you cannot hold him yet, I wish to examine him again first."

The twins watched as Elrond laid the elfling on the bed in the room and unwrapped the towel. They both gasped at his size.

"He is so small!" Elladan exclaimed, awed. He reached out a finger and gently touched a tiny hand.

"Why was he born so early?" Elrohir asked, nearly afraid to touch him.

"I am unsure," Elrond said. "Linwë woke with pain and Legolas was born an hour later. At first, he did not breathe."

The twins looked at him in shock.

"I can see that his breathing is shallow," said Elladan.

"Did you need to breathe for him, ada?" Elrohir asked.

Elrond nodded. "Aye, but thankfully, he took his own breath not long after."

"You called him Legolas," Elrohir said.

Elrond nodded. "That is the name that Linwë bestowed upon him."

They were all silent as they stared at the elfling.

"Will he live?" Elladan suddenly asked.

Elrond hesitated, and it sent a shiver of fear down both their spines. Despite his earlier feeling, he was afraid to give false hope in case he erred. "His heartbeat is strong, and though his breathing is shallow, it is regular. He appears to be in no other form of distress…"

The twins nodded, optimistically taking that as a 'yes'.

"Legolas will live," Elladan said, firmly. "And he will be our greatest friend."

In the millennia to come, they would see how correct Elladan had been.

THE END  
Ta-da! ;)


	16. Memories

**Memories**  
A Lord of the Rings snippet by Deana Lisi  
Dedicated to Ruse, who begged me for some Elrond angst, lol!  
Disclaimer: I don't own Elrond, Legolas, or the twins.

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I just wanted to say rest in peace to the awesome Steve Irwin, aka The Crocodile Hunter, 1962-2006. You were much too young to die, and will be soooo missed! ;(

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The sound of a shaky sigh filled the room, which was empty but for one person; Elrond, Lord of Imladris, sat chopping roots to add to their medical supplies. Usually, the task was set for the resident healers in the healing wing, but Elrond had recently wanted to fill up as much time as he could; it allowed less time for thought.

Except for today. Today, no matter what he did, he simply could not forget, even for one moment.

No, he would never forget Elros.

Elrond sighed again, unable to prevent himself from thinking of his twin brother, the brother who had chosen to live the life of a mortal rather than an elf. Elros had been blessed to live for five centuries, and had now been dead for many millennia. Tears came to Elrond's eyes, and he tried to fight them back. _Why am I so upset?_ He wondered. _So much time has passed…why do I suffer so badly today?_

Scooping up the chopped roots, Elrond placed them in a bag before moving onto another. He knew the answer to his question; it was the day before his begetting day, and his thoughts always strayed towards his brother when that day approached. This year was especially hard, for he was achieving the monumental age of six thousand, which brought back an ancient memory. Closing his eyes, Elrond remembered himself and his brother as young elflings, when they used to pretend to be aged elf-Lords.

_"I am six thousand years old!" yelled a tiny Elros, standing on a large rock. "I am older than you, Elrond!"_

_"You cannot be older than me!" the little Elrond exclaimed, laughing. "I was born first!"_

_"No, you were not."_

_"Yes I was."_

_"No!"_

_"Yes!"_

_"No!"_

_"Yes!"_

_Elros laughed and tackled his brother, and they'd rolled in the grass before jumping up and running towards the house, eager to pester the cook for some sweets._

His thoughts were abruptly broken when the knife that Elrond was still using suddenly ran out of root and sliced into his hand instead. Despite himself, he gave a loud gasp and dropped the knife, jumping to his feet. He tried to look at the wound, but his sight was blurred by tears that he hadn't realized were sliding down his cheeks from his sad thoughts.

The door suddenly opened and Elrond looked up, hoping that it wasn't one of his sons, not wanting the bloody sight to alarm them.

The elf standing there wasn't Elladan or Elrohir, but he might have been one of Elrond's sons for as close as he was to the peredhel family.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, having heard the knife clatter to the floor as he passed the room. When he saw the tears on Elrond's face and the blood dripping from his hand, he gave a gasp of his own and rushed forward. "What happened?"

Elrond looked down at his hand, blinking his eyes to clear his vision. What he saw dismayed him; the cut in his palm was quite deep, bleeding all over the table.

Legolas reached out and took Elrond's arm, grabbing a towel that had held the roots and pressed it to the wound.

Elrond slowly reached up his other hand, hoping that Legolas was occupied enough to not see him wipe the tears from his face.

But Legolas had already seen them, and he looked up at Elrond as he tightly held the towel against the older elf's hand. "Whatever is wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned.

Elrond sighed in answer.

"Sit," said Legolas, nudging him towards the chair.

Elrond obeyed, knowing that it would be easier to lay his arm on the table while Legolas tended it.

The action increased Legolas' concern; Elrond was the best healer in all of Middle Earth…he was more capable of seeing to his own wounds than anyone alive. "Come now," said Legolas, trying to lighten the mood. "You cannot be this upset about becoming a year older!"

Elrond smiled slightly, one corner of his mouth barely turning up. "No, that is not quite it."

Legolas watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.

Elrond had no wish to speak his thoughts, but the gentle, caring expression on Legolas' face beckoned to him. "I…miss my brother."

Legolas' lips turned down in a sympathetic frown. He looked down at Elrond's hand, picking up the towel to check the status of the bleeding. "I am sorry," he said. "If you do not wish to speak of it, I understand, but talking is good for easing the heart's burdens. I am not needed anywhere at the moment." He smiled slightly. "And even if I was, it cannot be more important than this."

Elrond closed his eyes, the younger elf's words touching his heart. He could remember so many times providing a listening ear for Legolas, and he could not refuse the Mirkwood Prince's offer to return the many favors. "We were inseparable," he said. "Much as Elladan and Elrohir are. We knew each other's thoughts, we felt each other's pain…we followed each other into trouble."

Legolas gave a mock-shocked look. "Trouble? Lord Elrond of Imladris, getting into trouble? Surely not!"

Elrond smiled, recognizing the other elf's ploy to make him laugh. "Aye, very much trouble. Nearly as much as you and my sons."

Legolas returned the smile. "Of which each incident was purely accidental."

Elrond shook his head. "I'm sure they were," he said, sarcastically.

Legolas smiled again and took another peek under the towel. "So what did the two of you do to wreak havoc?"

"The typical twin antics," said Elrond. "Pretending to be each other was a favorite, as people were hard-pressed to tell us apart."

Legolas stood from the table. "I'm listening," he said, as he walked over to a cabinet.

But Elrond was silent, his injured arm unmoving on the table as he looked at nothing.

Legolas came back with a cup and placed it before the other elf.

Elrond looked at it and picked it up, knowing what it was for.

Legolas sat down, again putting pressure on the gash in Elrond's hand.

"When Elros chose the life of a mortal, it nearly destroyed me," Elrond said, placing down the empty cup. "I did not know how I would live without him."

"I cannot imagine how hard it must have been," said Legolas, softly.

Elrond sighed again. "It was terribly hard. I do not even know how I survived. I could not eat, I could not sleep…I could not let him out of my sight, for I was so afraid to lose him."

Legolas had no reply, what could he possibly say? Instead, he gently patted Elrond's arm.

Elrond said nothing more, resting his right elbow on the table and dropping his face into his hand. He was quiet for a minute, until he suddenly began to sing.

_You are my brother, I'll always be there,_

_You are my brother, I will always care,_

_You are my brother, through darkness and light,_

_While we are together, there's no reason for fright._

His voice shook as he neared the end, and he had to wipe away more tears. "He wrote that for me, once," he whispered.

Legolas was practically fighting his own tears now.

They were both silent for a minute, until Elrond spoke. "It is ready."

Legolas looked at him, puzzled.

"My hand," Elrond said.

"Ah." Legolas nodded, realizing that the numbing herbs that he'd given Elrond had taken effect.

Elrond watched as Legolas stitched the wound, confident that the young elf would do it well. Legolas was one of the finest warriors in Mirkwood, and because of all the fighting that went on in Thranduil's kingdom, his warriors were trained to care for each other's injuries on the battlefield.

A sudden memory came to Elrond, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Legolas looked up at him, pleased to hear the sound.

"I remember once," said Elrond. "Elros and I heard of an elf maiden who fancied one of us. The friend who told us said that she didn't know that we were twins; she had apparently seen us both at different times, and naturally thought that we were the same person. We were very young, younger than my sons. In fact, we were even younger than _you_."

Legolas smiled.

Elrond shook his head, amused at the memory. "I think our youth was what made us carry out what we did. We both dressed alike, and I deliberately walked into her path. I cannot recall what we spoke of, but I told her that I needed to do something and would return momentarily. I walked off, and seconds later, Elros appeared, coming from a different direction."

Legolas paused in his stitching to laugh.

"We confused the poor maiden badly. It was very humorous. When she realized that there were two of us, she was rather…miffed, at our game. We never saw her again."

"Oh no," said Legolas. "She must have been quite upset."

Elrond nodded. "We were young and foolish. I regretted it later, but Elros laughed about it for a long time. We may have been twins, but we were slightly different when it came to our emotions. Elros was harder than I. Or mayhap I should say stronger. He never set out to purposely hurt anyone, but it took him somewhat longer than I to feel regret."

Legolas tied off the stitches and wrapped a piece of cloth around Elrond's hand, tying a knot that was tight yet easy to undo.

Elrond looked at him for a minute. "Hannon le," he said. "For your care, and for your ear."

Legolas chuckled at the rhyme as he stood to return the healing supplies to the cabinet. "You have done both for me, many times. I very much hope that your heart is now lightened."

Elrond nodded, smiling as he also stood. "Indeed it is. You have been a son to me since the day that you were born, and I am very grateful." With that, he reached out and hugged him.

Legolas smiled, happily returning the embrace.

The End


	17. Little Green Elven Hood

**Little Green Elven Hood  
**A Lord of the Rings story by Deana Lisi  
Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas or the story of 'Little Red Riding Hood'

Hey everyone! Since I still have no new LOTR story ready, (and I have no idea when/if I ever will...) I figured I might as well post some more snippets. I wrote this one for the 'Middle Earth Fairy Tale' Teitho contest. Enjoy! ;)

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Once upon a time, there lived a sweet little elfling named Legolas. Everyone who met him loved him, but no one so much as his grandmother. She enjoyed making him anything that her hands could fashion, and she painstakingly knitted him a green velvet cloak which he hardly ever removed. And so she called him Little Green Elven Hood.

One day, his mother said to him, "Little Green Elven Hood, your grandmother sent a message asking for you to visit. Here is some fruit and some wine to bring her. Stay on the path and do not run! You would not like to fall and break the bottle, for then she will get nothing and you may injure yourself!"

"I will be careful!" said Little Green Elven Hood.

His grandmother lived half a league from their home, and just as Little Green Elven Hood entered the woods, an orc met him. He had no idea what an evil creature the orc was, and so was completely unafraid of him.

"Good day, Little Green Elven Hood," said the orc.

"Good day," he replied.

"Where go you so early, little elf?" asked the orc.

"To visit my grandmother." He held up the messenger-bird. "She sent a message asking me to come!"

The orc smiled. It was a difficult action for his face to perform. "What have you in the basket? Where does your grandmother live?"

"Fruit and wine," said the elfing. "She lives not far from here, in the house under the three oak trees. Surely you have seen it!"

The orc nodded, thinking to himself, _What a tender young morsel! He would taste much better than the old woman. I must find a way to gobble them both! _"I must go home now, Little Green Elven Hood. Say hello to your grandmother for me."

"I will!" said Legolas. He waved as the orc walked off.

When he was out of view of the elfling, the orc began to run as fast as his legs could carry him. When he reached the house belonging to Little Green Elven Hood's grandmother, he opened the door and ran in.

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Little Green Elven Hood walked at a leisurely pace, taking much longer to arrive than the orc. When he came to the door, he knocked.

"Who is it?" he heard.

"Little Green Elven Hood!" Legolas exclaimed.

"Come in!"

Legolas smiled as he opened the door and walked in. He found his grandmother lying in bed with the blanket pulled over her nose and a pillow covering most of her head. "Are you well, grandmother?" he asked, worriedly.

His grandmother nodded. "I merely suffer a slight cold!" she said, her voice sounding rather odd. "I cover my face so that you do not contract it!"

Little Green Elven Hood frowned. "But grandmother, elves cannot get ill."

The old woman blinked. "Ah…yes…but sometimes we do when we are very old!"

"I did not know that," said Legolas. "But I cannot contract it from you, so you need not cover your face!"

"What have you there?" the grandmother asked, looking towards the basket.

"Fruit and wine," said Little Green Elven Hood, wondering why his grandmother still had the blanket up to her eyes. He suddenly noticed something quite odd. "Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"

"The better to see you with!" she answered.

"But where did you get them?" asked Legolas. "You never had them before."

The blanket was tickling the orc's nose, and he suddenly sneezed. It would have gone well with his ruse, if he had not lost his grip on the blanket.

Little Green Elven Hood stepped back. "What a big mouth you have!" he said.

"The better to _eat_ you with!" exclaimed the orc, jumping up and grabbing the little elf.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Little Green Elven Hood's grandmother ran into the house. "Unhand that elfling!" she shouted, holding a small axe used to chop wood.

The last thing that the orc saw was the axe flying through the air.

Little Green Elven Hood sprang from the orc's grasp as the evil creature fell. "Oh grandmother! He was going to eat me!" he cried, throwing his arms around her waist.

His grandmother shook her head, kneeling and hugging him tightly. "I would not have let him harm you, my Little Green Elven Hood! It is good that I heard your voice; I was fetching water from the well when I saw him coming, so I planned to stay outside until he left. I did not know that you had arrived!"

Legolas hugged her tightly. "It is all right, I am fine!" He suddenly let go and looked at her. "I knew that you were not ill!"

His grandmother frowned. "Ill?"

"He pretended to be you and that you were ill," said Little Green Elven Hood. "He said that you are old! You look the same as nana, and she is not old!"

Legolas' grandmother smiled, brushing her blond hair off her shoulder as she stood. The eternal youth of immortality was indeed a blessing. "Yet, I am very old compared to a mortal! Now, let us rid my house of this evil creature, and then we will see what you have in the basket!"

And so, Little Green Elven Hood and his grandmother lived happily ever after, and were never bothered by evil orcs again.

The End


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